A New Game
by Legend-waitforit-Harry
Summary: Harry is tired of playing another's game, so he creates his own. A game where he has power, freedom, and an actual chance of victory. Independent Harry. Post- OOTP
1. Chapter 1

**A New Game**

**Chapter One**

* * *

"Make yourself at home, _freak." _Uncle Vernon positively spat in his face. Harry only felt a brief stab of shock before he settled back into his normal listless demeanor. So the Dursleys hated him even more now. It wasn't like this was something new, was it? The Dursley's hated freakish Harry Potter ever since he had been brought into existence.

He dragged his trunk upstairs quickly, not wanting Dudley to come down and 'investigate' the noise. He quite liked his current possessions, and wasn't really in the mood to see them mercilessly destroyed by the elephant right across the hall.

As he collapsed on the lumpy mattress, his pet owl Hedwig gave a soft hoot. He reached over and unlatched her (rather small, now that he noticed it. He hadn't bought her a new cage for years) cage. She let him stroke her a couple of times before she took off into the night.

It was rather ironic that one of his best friends was an owl, especially since he was considered the _Chosen-Boy-who-didn't-die _or whatever hogwash they were coming up these days.

Well, then again, it wasn't exactly hogwash anymore, was it? Not with the prophecy that he'd _just _been informed of, courtesy of a certain Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

**The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …**

Yes, it was rather dramatic. Honestly, Harry didn't even know what to make of it. It basically said the Dark Lord would be hunting him until one of them died. It also said that they were destined to kill each other.

Harry had a nagging feeling that the prophecy intended to send both the Dark Lord and the Chosen One to their deaths.

He should have known about this blasted prophecy sooner. Instead of hearing it from someone 'light', such as Dumbledore or the Order of Phoenix, Harry was forced to learn the importance of his entire _existence _from a Death Eater nearly everyone in this damn world despised!

It was almost as if Dumbledore and the Order wanted to send him in untrained, unprepared and weak.

Two loud bangs on his door alerted Harry to the presence outside.

"Come get your dinner! We don't need those- those freaks thinking that we don't feed you!" Petunia screeched before thudding down the stairs quickly. He sighed, thinking about the Order's threat. At least he was getting food.

* * *

ONE WEEK LATER

* * *

He was woken with yet another pound on his door. He smiled ruefully. The pounding and stomping reminded him of his cupboard days a little too much for his liking. He quickly checked the little area on his desk where Hedwig left his mail.

Harry nearly smacked himself for his stupidity. He'd had to clear away half of his desk, but he realized that Hedwig had dropped three letters here days ago! However, he was already late. He quickly decided to open them later.

At least he had something to look forward to now.

At breakfast, Aunt Petunia hastily placed some lukewarm porridge and a piece of lightly buttered toast before him, along with a large list. He held it up.

"What is this?" She glanced at him and turned back to making a large english breakfast

"It's your list of chores for the day. Get it done by dinnertime, and you'll get your meal. We are all going out, which is even more a reason you should be able to finish, you hear?" He nodded curtly and went back to scan the list. It was the usual chores, with strange ones like clean out the cupboard.

_Yes, _he sighed, _it was definitely going to be a fun day._

* * *

Without anyone purposely sabotaging his efforts, Harry finished half an hour before dinner. He quickly went to shower before the Dursleys returned. Dudley always took great pleasure in dragging him out of the bathroom, regardless of whether he was finished with his shower or not.

He returned to his room, freshly showered with dripping hair. He felt the parchment crackle under his pillow and pulled it out once more.

He saw Hedwig, a brief glint in the sky. He nearly jumped over the chair in his haste to open his window. She immediately flew in and dropped a letter on his rickety old desk.

"Hey Hedwig. Have a good flight?" He asked, stroking her softly. She hooted, conveying her thoughts with her eyes.

It was quite eerie how easy Hedwig was to understand.

"Yeah, well-" He was interrupted by a bright flash on his desk. He immediately pulled out his wand, despite knowing how futile it was. One spell, even a simple _nox_, and the Ministry would have his head before he could say 'underage'.

There was now another letter on his desk, right next to the other 3.

_Dear Mr. Harry J. Potter,_

_It has come to our attention that a certain Sirius Orion Black has passed away. We'd like to extend our condolences for your loss._

_Since Mr. Black's name has been cleared of charges, the Black accounts have been unfrozen. Sirius Black was the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Mr. Black also made a will before his death, and stated you as a benefactor. We have scheduled a will reading to take place tomorrow at noon. If tomorrow at Noon is unable to work for you, please contact Gringotts at a later date in order to know what has been left to you. _

_Please let Gringotts know if you are able to attend. There is an included parchment. Simply sign your name and state if you are attending or not. If you need special accommodations, be sure to let us know. A drop of blood is needed to confirm your identity._

_Thank you, _

_ Goreclaw_

_ Manager of Black accounts_

_ Gringotts Bank_

Harry was shocked. He couldn't believe that Sirius had made a will despite being cooped up in Grimmauld Place.

Was it really that obvious to him that he was going to die?

He set that aside. He needed time to think before he replied. Signing that paper was like signing a death slip for Sirius. Something he obviously wasn't prepared to do.

He turned to the next one, eyes widening when he realized who had sent it: _Dumbledore. _It was the one Hedwig had just brought. Curiosity overwhelmed him, despite his anger at the Professor.

_Dear Harry,_

_I realize you have probably received a letter from Gringotts about Sirius's will. I just want to tell you that we have reason to believe that Sirius had never made a will. This may be a trap._

_I regret to deny you your closure, Harry, but I need to ask you to please refrain from agreeing to attend the reading. I am sorry, but your safety takes precedence in this matter_

_Hope your holidays are enjoyable._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry was surprised. He didn't know that Gringotts had Death Eaters working there. He wondered how Gringotts had even gotten his address. If someone working against him knew his address, why not attack him there and be done with it? Why lure him into the magical world, where he could use magic to fight back?

Harry sighed. Despite Dumbledore's warning against it, he was seriously thinking about attending.

And his holidays? Enjoyable? What was Dumbledore playing at? He _knew _that his time with the Dursleys' was hell. How could he say that his holidays should be enjoyable!?

There were three letters left. Thankfully, they were from different people. He chose to open the one on top first, despite not knowing who it was.

_Harry, _

_Hello. It's me, Luna. I seem to remember you asking me to write you during the summer. _

_It's summer now, and I'd feel bad ignoring your request. Especially since you're the first person that ever asked me to write. _

His eyes widened in shock and anger. It wasn't fair of the Ravenclaws to ostracize Luna so much just because she was a _little _batty. He resolved to be a better friend to her in the future. Despite only knowing him for 6-8 months, she had been extremely loyal and helpful to him. He quickly returned to the letter.

_Harry, if you want to talk, I'm here. I was at the Ministry too, obviously. I know what it's like to lose someone important to me. I can help. _

_I think we should write more often. Despite going on a life threatening mission with you, I don't know anything about you. Except your defense skills._

_You don't have to reply if you don't want too. I won't mind._

_And your owl really is beautiful. _

_Luna._

Harry smiled. This was Luna, all right. Despite her oddness, her letter really did help her feel better. He reread the line about loss. _Luna's mother. _Of course! She really did know how she was feeling _because she went through it herself. _ He set it to the side, right by the other two letters he had already read. He picked up the next one, expecting it to be Ron.

It was Neville.

_Harry,_

_I know we haven't really had a chance to talk much, even in school. I just wanted to say thank you for having my back at the Ministry. It meant a lot that you let me come and help. _

_Gran's really proud, and she doesn't even mind that I broke my wand. I'm getting another one. I know we aren't really that close, but I'd love to get a chance to talk with you more, if you'd like._

_Hope you're alright._

_Neville._

He opened the one with Hermione's handwriting last, despite knowing she was probably worried by the lack of response.

_Dear Harry,_

_Guten Tag from Germany! Yes Harry, that's where I am right now. Mum and Dad surprised me. We only came home for two days, and then we were off. Don't worry, we'll be back before your birthday._

_Wow, Germany is just amazing, Harry. Our villa is so large, it's like I need a __**map**_to get in. _There's a bookstore half a block away, and a small coffee shop right next to it. I love to go there and read sometimes. The owner of the coffee shop has a daughter, a really young one. We became friends the instant I was reading her favorite book. Now, I've been there so much I practically have a free __**pass**__ for the drinks! She likes books too, so we frequently think of quotes and __**words **__from famous books to 'quiz' each other. It's quite fun, really._

_Aren't you excited to return to school?! We'll be taking NEWT classes soon, and I'm just so excited!_

_Write back soon, Harry. I'll be waiting for your reply. If it's not here in 5 days, I'm busting you out of that horrible house._

_With Love,_

_Hermione_

He smiled slightly as he read it. Hermione was writing strangely… Maybe it was from the excitement? He scanned the parchment again. Hmmm, some words were slightly darker than the rest… word, map, and pass, to be exact. He scratched his head. Hermione didn't do something like that for no reason. Something was going on.

He quickly began mentally rearranging the words.

_Map, word, pass? No, that doesn't make sense. Pass, map, word? What the hell? _ He tried another combination, and everything suddenly clicked. _Bloody hell, you idiot, _he admonished himself, _ it's the map password! The Marauder's Map!_ He tapped his wand and repeated the infamous words.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The writing faded right before his eyes, only to be replaced with new words.

_Harry,_

_Oh, I really hope you understood my clues. Harry, we need to talk about the prophecy. I understand that you don't feel ready, but you really need to understand. Maybe you should ask Dumbledore or someone in the Order about training? You really do need to learn to protect your mind, just not with Snape._

_And Harry, if nobody offers to train you, we can always figure something out. Maybe you could pick up some helpful books when you shop for your booklist? I know I will be! Just be careful there, all right? Are the Dursleys treating you all right?_

_You're okay, right? Don't keep overthinking Sirius's death. He was a great man with a sad ending. At least he died fighting for something he believed in Harry. To him, that was the noblest way to go. So, how are you, Harry? You're not still upset about the Ministry, right? Harry, it wasn't your fault. Not at all. Please, please, _please _don't blame yourself for what happened. You didn't point the wand, Harry, you didn't say the spell. You didn't lure him there, you didn't intend for it to happen. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I promise you can talk to me. I may not empathize, but I certainly can listen and understand. Did you get the letter about the Will reading? I did. Maybe if you attended you can get some sort of closure? I would understand if you didn't want to come. Take your time, Harry._

_Be safe, Harry. Please._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_Also, have you heard from Ron yet? He hasn't written me._

He sighed. Hermione was correct about Sirius. He needed to stop blaming himself.

However, that didn't mean he was going to stop.

Hermione had gotten the letter too? Harry suddenly found himself doubting as to whether it really was a trap or not.

He decided he would go in some sort of disguise. That way, if it was a trap, he would be able to escape without detection.

He fished around in the envelope, finally finding that small piece of parchment that the letter spoke of.

_I, Harry James Potter, will be attending Sirius Orion Black's will reading tomorrow. I wish to keep my attendance private from anyone attending or inquiring._

He then pricked his finger with his quill and coaxed out some blood. Mere seconds after he smeared it across the parchment, it glowed white and disappeared.

He then penned a few more letters.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Yes, I had gotten the letter. If you believe it is a trap, then I won't go. Thank you for warning me sir, even though I didn't have means of reaching there anyway. _

_Thank you._

_Harry _

There. That was sufficient.

He had less than 14 hours to see if it was actually a trap or if it was a true will reading.

And he couldn't wait.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Harry had a fitful sleep that night. He tossed and turned, full of the possibilities.

What did Sirius put in the will?

And Sirius… He was really gone. He felt a stab of grief. Despite what Hermione, Dumbledore, Ron, Luna, and even Neville said, he knew it was his fault.

He had rashly rushed into a decision, which made Sirius jump to come and save him. His carelessness and his love for his godfather had been the cause of his death.

It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

Cedric, too. If Harry had just listened to Cedric and grabbed the cup on his own, Cedric would still be alive. He'd be happy and he'd have a job and a girlfriend and his parents- his parents would have a son to love, to be proud of. They'd have a son to marry and grandkids to hold and spoil. Harry's nobility and sense of honor had taken that all away from him.

In a way, he caused the deaths. He always did.

His parents' death was totally his fault as well… _No,_ Harry chided himself_. They knew they were in a war. They were willing to fight and die, even have me in danger of death for the cause. They knew what they were signing up for. They could have easily left the country, but they chose to stay and fight. _

Harry sat up in bed. He just realized. James and Lily Potter were willing to die, willing to let their own son die instead of leaving the country and seeking sanctuary. They believed in the cause that their family was a worthy sacrifice.

_Well, then again, they weren't totally unprotected,_ Harry reasoned._ They used the Fidelius, which is no easy task. If only they hadn't put their faith in Peter._

No, his parents' death was Voldemort's fault, not his. However, Harry's own hands were stained with the blood of Sirius and Cedric and Quirrell (which he wasn't too upset about. Anyone who _agreed_ to let the Dark Lord possess them was an immediate threat to society.

He settled back into the lumpy mattress, wincing at the soreness in his muscles. His stomach grumbled feebly.

The Dursleys had went out for dinner, and had 'forgot' to bring him food. Aunt Petunia had refused to let him make his own food, claiming she had just cleaned the kitchen.

Wrong. _He_ had just cleaned the kitchen. So Harry had went to bed hungry. Fortunately, Harry had the foresight to sneak a few of Dudley's protein bars before leaving. They didn't fill his stomach, but they were satisfying enough to quell his hunger pangs.

As he contemplated the will reading, he realized something. How was he going to slip past the order and make it to Gringotts?

He mentally thought of every wizarding transport he could use: apparition (out of question), flying (hard to conceal; impossible to kick off without order finding him), floo (fireplace wasn't hooked up), and Knight Bus.

_ Of course! _He could take the Knight Bus! Then he encountered another problem: how was he supposed to leave the house, call the Knight Bus, and leave without being caught by the Order?

He couldn't be seen… He needed to be_ invisible._

He jumped out of bed, heading straight for his trunk. He haphazardly threw the contents out, searching desperately for the item at the bottom. His fingers brushed folds of soft material and he had to muffle a triumphant cry.

He knew what he had to do. He would wake up early and slip out, with only his invisibility cloak and wand. Then he'd walk a few blocks and call the Knight Bus. Hopefully, the Order wouldn't be able to know if he was gone until it was too late.

But he needed a disguise. Harry wracked his brain. His most recognizable features was his scar, hair, and eyes. A cap! It would easily cover most of his hair, forehead, and eyes. He knew Dudley had a few caps from when he needed a disguise- he usually needed it to rob the corner store or go buy some cigarettes. At least Harry was using it for a good cause!

He silently turned to pick the lock, knowing that the Dursley's were fast asleep by now. He creeped down to Dudley's room, quietly checking if the great lump was actually in his room.

Unknown to Petunia and Vernon, Dudley regularly snuck out at night to visit his friends, prowl the streets, and get smashed. Somehow, Dudley's parents remained totally oblivious to the fact that Dudley returned every day at almost 3 in the morning, slamming into walls and doors. More often than not, he was drunk and smelled like cigarette smoke. Harry could smell it through his door whenever Dudley passed his room.

He breathed a large sigh of relief when he realized that Dudley had decided to leave tonight. He quickly tiptoed into the closet, searching desperately for a large cap.

"Gotcha," Harry breathed triumphantly. He pulled out a large, plain white cap and tried it on. It was slightly large, but would shield his eyes and his scar while covering his hair. Perfect for what he needed.

He stole back to his room silently, making sure to re-lock the door. He really hoped that his plan would work. Otherwise, he'd be screwed.

Forget screwed. If Dumbledore was right, and this was a trap, then he'd be good as dead.

* * *

Judging by the sun rising in his window, Harry suspected that it was about 7:30. Knowing a shower would wake up his relatives, he simply washed his face and changed into his best hand-me-downs. He decided to wear a simple robe over it. That way, the attire was appropriate for both muggle and magical worlds.

He left Hedwig's cage open, just in case she came back before he did. He had sent her off last night with Dumbledore's letter, wanting him to be reassured.

Time to put Phase 1 of the plan in action.

He quickly chugged some milk from the carton (something Aunt Petunia would lynch him for doing) and raided the pantry for some sort of breakfast energy bar. After loading up on a few different kinds, he pulled on his cloak and snuck out carefully. He made sure only to open the door halfway. Otherwise, it would creak and his position would be revealed. He silently slipped around the house, trying to look for someone from the Order.

As Harry slipped by a bush, he heard a gruff voice grumbling about the increased price of Acromantula eyes. Harry rolled his eyes. Yep, that was Mundungus, all right. He chuckled silently when he thought of Dung having to explain to Dumbledore that he had lost Harry Potter not once, but twice under his watch. Harry looked around for another guard, thinking that Dumbledore was too smart to trust only Dung to watch Harry. His suspicions were correct when Dung started mumbling to himself.

"Tonks can take care of herself, right? The prices are at an all-time low, and I really need these…" Harry was a bit disappointed. Tonks would probably be a bit harder to slip past than Dung, obviously. The girl was a trained Order member and an auror; he snooped around, and then detected a faint rustle coming from the bushes underneath his bedroom window. However, there was nobody there.

Ahh. Apparently, Moody had lent Tonks his invisibility cloak. He was right! The Order was spying on him. Not guarding- Mundungus was never a help in _that _type of situation- but spying. Wow. So much for trustworthy people.

He walked over three blocks, just to be on the safe side. Harry had lost a lot of time covering his tracks. He circled around, hid in bushes, the whole lot. He didn't want to risk them seeing him, so he kept his invisibility cloak on. As Harry veered off the regular sidewalk, he walked right into an area of thick shrubbery, effectively concealing himself from sight. He then pulled off his invisibility cloak, adjusted his cap, and silently called for the Knight Bus.

With a giant _bang!_ and a puff of purple smoke, the Knight Bus appeared right before him. Stan Shunpike, still the conductor of the magical Knight Bus, made his normal speech, only to look around.

"Er, 'ello. Where do ya need to go?" He asked Harry. Harry pulled his cap down low and made his voice sound deeper, just in case Stan recognized him from his previous rides, "Diagon Alley. Here's the eleven sickles." Stan nodded and began slowly counting the money that Harry had handed over.

As he sat down on a bolted chair, Harry checked the remnants of his money bag. He definitely needed to refill it… Maybe after the will reading the goblins would let Harry fill up his moneybag again. He wished he was able to secure his booklist early… that way, he could have gotten his school supplies early and avoided the frantic crowds.

Harry's thoughts abruptly came to his end when the Knight Bus braked. His momentum nearly threw him out an open window. Stan ran over, pushing it close.

"Er, yeah. Sorry mate. We're here: The Leaky Cauldron. Enjoy your day. Say, what was your name again?" Instead of responding, like last time, Harry simply brushed past him with a simple "goodbye". He did not need some bored, adventure-seeking young man, no matter how good his intentions, spreading rumors that the Boy-who-Lived had been sighted on the Knight Bus.

* * *

Harry quickly approached the goblin in the front. He didn't remove his cap, just in case it was a trap or someone had followed him.

"Harry James Potter, here for the will reading of Sirius Black." The goblin looked up in mild surprise, then narrowed his eyes. The goblin handed Harry a piece of parchment.

"Please place your finger on this identification parchment, Mr. _Potter_." Harry placed his finger upon the parchment, deliberately stifling his flinch when it pricked him. The goblin was already looking at him like he was a piece of meat. There was no reason to further prove to him that he was a weak little boy.

The parchment flashed green, then a name appeared underneath Harry's blood. _Harry James Potter_, it read before disappearing. The goblin nodded once.

"Very well. Greylock will show you to the room." He gestured to a tiny, sharply-dressed goblin. The tiny goblin nodded to Harry and began to hurry away. Despite his longer strides, Harry was forced to speed up as he followed the goblin.

"Wait in this room please. The reading will commence either when everyone is here or it is noon." With that, the goblin left.

Harry stood off in a corner, waiting for the others to arrive. He didn't want to risk someone sitting on him! He'd come too far to be exposed by something so… stupid!

The first (technically second) person to arrive was Remus Lupin. The poor man looked even more haggard than before. The circles under his brown eyes nearly swallowed his eyes and the wrinkles on his face had become even more pronounced than before. His hair had gone from brown-streaked-with-gray to gray-streaked-with-brown. Harry couldn't help sympathize with Remus. He too had been extremely close to Sirius. He had probably felt worse than Harry. Despite that, Remus had put aside his own grief to console Harry. Harry felt a rush of warmth for Remus. Despite only knowing him for a few years, Harry genuinely liked and trusted Remus.

He really hoped that trust wasn't misplaced.

Eventually, everyone finished trickling in. Harry was now in a room with Molly and Ron Weasley, Hermione, Andromeda Tonks, and Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. Unsurprisingly, the Malfoys were seated as far away as possible from the rest of them. However, Narcissa kept throwing her sister Andromeda the occasional glance. Hermione kept glancing at the door, her expression hopeful yet fearful.

Harry felt a sudden jolt of affection for his friend. Was Hermione looking for him?

The goblin at the front of the room finally cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent. Harry slid into the 3rd row, putting one whole row of space between himself and the rest of them.

The goblin at the front of the room cleared his throat noisily. The families' hushed murmurs were quickly silenced with a particularly sinister look from the reader.

However, there was another knock at the door. The guards quickly opened the door, and none other than Albus Dumbledore swept in.

"My dearest apologies for my tardiness," he replied, attempting to cross the threshold. Harry immediately sank below the seats. He knew Dumbledore would be able to see through the cloak, and was not ready to face his Headmaster. However, the goblins had already blocked the aging headmasters way.

"Albus Dumbledore, you have no reason to be at this reading. You have not been named a beneficiary. Kindly exit the premises, or we will be forced to escort you," One of the goblins replied dangerously. Dumbledore looked taken aback, then quickly collected himself.

"Oh, my apologies. I am representing Mr. Harry James Potter for the will reading. He is unable to attend, so I will be doing so for him." The goblin shook his head, baring his teeth.

"Harry Potter did not state you were his representative, nor did he state that a representative would be attending for him." Albus drew himself up.

"As Harry Potter's magical guardian, I am his representative. As he is unable to attend, I am allowed by the Guardian law of 1653 to attend the will Reading of Sirius Black in his stead." The goblins looked distinctly disgruntled.

"Very well." He quickly strode past Harry's hiding spot, not even sparing him a glance. The goblin nodded shortly and cleared his throat once more, encouraging complete silence.

The Will Reading had begun.

* * *

The wizened little goblin unfurled a scroll carefully and began to read.

_I, Sirius Black, being of reasonably sound mind and body, declare this to be my last Will and Testament. I revoke any previous all wills made previously by me._

_I request my will to be read at Gringotts. I request that all mentioned in the will be present to attend. I wish to be buried near Lily and James Potter in the Godric's Hollow Graveyard. Any financial compensation is required to be taken from the Black Vault._

_As Head of the Ancient and Noble house of Black, I have full control of all properties and vaults. I wish to divide my belongings in the following ways._

_To Remus John Lupin, I leave 160 thousand galleons and the Wales Black Cottage, and my enchanted motorbike. You said it would be dangerous in the wrong hands. That's why I left it in yours. I also leave a word of gratitude and a request. Thank you for all the amazing childhood memories, Remus. Use my gifts well. And as for my request, try to do your best and protect Harry when the time comes. Protect Harry, since I cannot._

The goblin looked to Lupin, who was smiling and trying to hold back tears.

"Do you, Remus John Lupin, accept Lord Black's gifts?" Rupin surreptitiously wiped his eyes.

"I do." The goblin nodded and proceeded with the will.

_To the Weasleys, I leave 30,000 galleons and my gratitude for looking after Harry when I could not, and for being one of the first to show him the love he so deserved. I also return the twins' shares of WWW back to them, along with praise. You two truly have potential. Use it to help people smile in these dark times._

Molly smiled, wiping tears away. "I, Molly Weasley nee Prewett, accept Lord Black's gifts on behalf of the Weasley family." Ginny and Ron sat back in their chairs, looking satisfied.

Harry was glad they had been able to put aside their grief so quickly. If only he could have done the same.

_To the Tonks family, as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I re-instate you into the family. As a sincere apology, I give to you 30,000 galleons as well. Welcome back, Andromeda._

Andromeda rose gracefully, wiping away her tears. She smiled.

"I, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, accept the re-instation into the Black family and the monetary compensation on behalf of the Tonks family."

_To Hermione Granger, I leave 30,000 galleons as a thank you for brilliantly rescuing me in my third year. I also thank you for being a good friend to Harry even when he had none._

Hermione, on the other hand, did not bother trying to stem the flow of tears. She stood up and shakily accepted Sirius's gift to her. The goblin nodded dispassionately and returned to the will, clearly ready to finish this meeting.

_To the Malfoy family, I leave no galleons and a warning. Narcissa, I have already dissolved Bellatrix's marriage and reclaimed her dowry. However, I have withheld from giving you the same treatment. I will give you a chance. Prove useful to my heir, and I will spare you of such punishment. As Head of Black, I disinherit Draco from the line. He is not, and never will be, a child of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black._

Malfoy was nearly shaking from anger, while Narcissa paled. She was extremely lucky that Sirius had spared her from such a fate.

"No! How dare that blood-traitor keep me from my rightful Inheritance! When my father-" Narcissa immediately cut Draco off. Making such a scene in public would reflect very badly on the Malfoy family, and she knew the Weasleys were not-so-secretly snickering behind their pale, freckled hands.

"If that is all, my son and I will leave now." The goblin at the front nodded and she made a quick exit, dragging her pouting son behind.

Harry stifled a chuckle behind his hand. He held his breath. Almost everyone in attendance had heard their part, except for him.

He wondered what Sirius had left him. Hopefully, it was something to do with his own parents. Perhaps photos or memories? Maybe a letter?

The goblin merely read on, seemingly unruffled by the Malfoy's hasty exit.

_And to Harry, my godson, I leave the remaining sum of money in the Black family vaults. I also leave him my personal vault under the name of Marauder S. Padfoot._

_I leave him all of my remaining properties, including Grimmauld Place. I, Sirius Orion Black, declare Harry James Potter heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black._

_As his appointed Godfather, I also declare him ready to inherit his Potter Lordship. To Harry, I leave a few parting words. I love you, Prongslet, and I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. Use what I left you however you would like, just make sure you're happy._

_Sirius out._

Harry silently blinked away the tears clouding his vision. Sirius had left him everything. Sirius had apologized for not being there. Sirius had left him, yes, but he hadn't left him completely and totally alone.

Albus stood up, gesturing to the rest of the crowd.

"Well, I see that Sirius had put his power to a very good use. Although I wished he had made a slight donation to the Order, I am glad to see that he had put others' interests before his own." Albus paused, letting the rest of them voice their agreements.

"However, I must ask that you allow me to inform Harry of his new titles and all that accompanies it. It is my duty, after all, as his magical guardian. Thank you." And with those parting words, he left.

Harry stayed hidden, waiting for everyone to leave.

Andromeda was the first to leave, with Remus following. He had been lead away by the goblins, who wanted to show him the cottage and motorbike and discuss his new wealth.

Hermione left soon after, claiming her parents were worried. She made Ron promise to write more often. However, the redhead simply waved her away angrily.

"Sure, Hermione. Whatever." She left, and Harry notices a hint of anger in her body language. He felt slightly indignant on Hermione's behalf. He perked up slightly when he heard Ginny admonish him.

"Don't be such a berk, Ron. I'll see you Hermione. Have you written to Harry yet? I haven't gotten a chance, he's alright, isn't he? I know how hard he'd been taking things…" Harry was filled with a warm rush of affection. Ginny remembered, and she truly did care!

If only he understood what was wrong with Ron…

"He's holding up alright, I think. He probably wants support from his friends, obviously. I'm just glad Professor Dumbledore didn't make us stop writing to him again." Ginny murmured an agreement, and Hermione left soon after.

Now, it was just Harry, Molly, Ron, and Ginny. He held his breath, wondering why they wouldn't leave. Finally, Ron spoke up.

"I can't believe Sirius gave our entire family the equal amount of what he gave to Hermione. That's just not right. I'm Harry's _best_ friend, his first friend!" Harry's eyes widened.

_Of course_. Ron was jealous. His inferiority complex had risen again.

"I know. And all the times we had taken care of Harry. It costs a lot of money to feed you lot, add him in… At least Sirius left us some money. Have you two written to Harry yet? What's he been up to?" Harry was shocked and a little hurt by Mrs. Weasley's words. He didn't realize that he was such a burden...

"Of course not, he's so mopey all the time. Plus, I've got another boyfriend, one who pays a lot more attention to me than Harry does." To his surprise, Ginny had answered first. Harry was confused. But she had just told Hermione… Oh. His eyes widened with realization.

Ginny was lying. She didn't care either. The two Weasleys were reporting to Molly. But why to Molly? What did she have to gain?

Was she reporting to someone else?

"Come on, Ron, Ginny! You know what happens if you don't write him! Dumbledore needs to know how Harry is and how he's doing! Keep writing, and make sure you at least pretend to care about his feelings, if you don't truly care." Ron and Ginny both muttered mutinous agreements, and the little family left, leaving Harry sitting on the floor between chairs.

So Dumbledore was the one interested in him, huh? Harry supposed it wasn't too far-fetched, using his friends to spy on him.

Obviously, Ron and Ginny were a part of that plan. However, Hermione seemed sincere.

But what about Neville and Luna? It _was_ rather sudden, contacting him now. How far did Dumbledore's influence truly reach?

He shook himself, and stood up. Sirius had claimed he was ready for assuming the Potter Lordship.

However, it was too late. The Order would suspect his absence now. He decided to come back another time and see what his parents had in store for him.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	3. Chapter 3

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* * *

Harry returned to Privet Drive with a new sense of purpose. It was just half-past noon. He quietly slipped in through the back door, and silently stole up the stairs to his room. He quickly changed into his normal hand-me-downs and stuffed his cloak and money bag deep into his trunk He trudged downstairs, knowing that the Dursleys had likely noted his absence. They probably punished his leaving with a large list of chores and a large quantity of food that he was not allowed to eat.

Petunia Dursley narrowed her eyes.

"Where have you run off to, you _freak_?" Harry just kept looking her in the eye. He would not be taking her attitude with downcast eyes and respectful words, not today.

"I took a walk around the neighborhood, Aunt Petunia. I thought you wanted me to spend the least amount of time at home as I could?" Petunia glared at him, but didn't deign to rise to the bait.

"Here is your list of chores, and since you have missed your breakfast, you will be fed at dinner. Am I understood?" He merely nodded, trying to mask his despair. He hadn't eaten in a while, and the travelling and sneaking around had certainly made him hungry.

The list was certainly long, but it gave him a lot of time to think and to plan.

First, he was now the Head of the Black family. He now had lots of money, a few properties, and power over quite a few people. There were quite a few known Blacks, such as Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda and Tonks, Bellatrix… _Bellatri_x. The crazy witch who killed Sirius and taunted him about it later.

He, Harry, had power over her. But what was the extent of his power? What could he do to Bellatrix? Could he kill her? Cast her out? Take away her magic so she'd be unable to hurt anyone else? He didn't really have any idea what he was doing, since nobody had educated him on the responsibilities of being a Lord and all of that. He resolved to look around Gringotts and Diagon Alley that would educate him on the responsibilities of being a Lord.

_Shopping_. Harry never really shopped for himself and got whatever he wanted, not really. The Dursleys never gave him enough money, time or privacy to shop alone, and he'd never had time to go shopping for himself before Hogwarts due to the hustle and bustle.

But now… Now that he actually had a decent bit of money that wouldn't run out (his trust fund was purely educational), he might be able to indulge himself a little…

Second thing, Dumbledore. The man had stationed spies all over Harry in the form of guards and friends and who-knows-what-else. Harry wasn't even sure who he could trust and who he couldn't. The Order was probably firmly under Dumbledore's thumb- but was doing what Dumbledore asked such a bad thing? Sure, he had made a few mistakes, but was the Headmaster really all that terrible? But Dumbledore hadn't even bothered training him or telling of the prophecy until it was practically too late. He did not even check up on Harry all of those years to see how life at the Dursleys was. He left a squib to report back to him. If Harry had truly been in trouble, then how exactly would Arabella Figg be able to help protect him? The blood wards obviously didn't keep out Dark Creatures. Dementors had paid him a lovely visit last summer, hadn't they?

No, despite Dumbledore being on the side of the Light, he definitely did not have Harry's best interests at heart.

Therefore, Dumbledore wasn't very trustworthy. Furthermore, his lackeys weren't trustworthy either. Obviously, the Order wasn't trustworthy. The Weasleys weren't either, as they seemed to be one of the main agents.

But what about Hermione? She seemed sincere, and definitely willing to keep him alive. Additionally, she seemed a little paranoid, considering that she masked half of her letter with a password-activated charm. And how exactly did she do magic outside of school? And she spoke of training him, something Professor Dumbledore had never really thought of doing. He decided Hermione was trustworthy, but he wasn't sure to what extent. No, he'd have to keep Hermione in the dark about his plans for now. Maybe he'd confide in her once he had returned to Hogwarts.

And Neville and Luna? Were they to be trusted? Well, they talked about fairly delicate things, but they weren't really prying into his business or asking where he was. They just seemed eager to begin a correspondence. Plus, Dumbledore had never really shown an interest in them before. Was the Ministry debacle really worth getting into all of that? Besides, Luna didn't seem to be the type to be fooled by the Headmaster's vague words. The rest of the world may have fallen prey to Dumbledore's beliefs, but Harry was sure Luna would be the last one standing in that regard.

As for Neville, well, his gran would probably want to be the only influence in his life. Plus, Professor Dumbledore didn't seem to show an interest in Neville before. Wouldn't it be suspicious that he begin just when Neville and Harry had gotten closer.

No, Harry decided. Neville and Luna were alright, but not to the extent of him telling them everything about his plan.

As usual, Harry would have to execute his plan alone.

* * *

Harry tried to quiet his grumbling stomach. As usual, his dinner was pathetic. While the Dursleys enjoyed a mountain of roast chicken and delicious mashed and seasoned potatoes, followed by a slice of flavorful pudding and whipping cream, Harry had an overcooked chicken leg that was mostly bone and a pitifully tiny serving of badly-peeled, mostly raw, unseasoned potatoes. This was followed by a glass of lukewarm tap water.

He slunk off, knowing that tomorrow was going to be a big day.

Harry carefully arranged his invisibility cloak next to his next-best set of hand-me-downs and yet another set of robes. He carefully tucked his wand into his pillowcase and reviewed his plan three individual times in his head.

For better or for worse, his life would definitely change tomorrow.

* * *

"Hey, you! You were on the train yesterday, weren't ya? Whatch yer name again?" Stan asked cheerfully, pointing at Harry's cap-covered face. Harry mentally sighed. Of course Stan would be the one to notice him.

He may have just snuck past Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones, but the Conductor of the Knight Bus was the only one observant enough to actually realize he was there and that he had been there.

The Dursleys were going out today, so the Order could easily assume that Harry had been locked inside the house. He had stuffed some of his old clothes underneath his covers and closed the curtains partially to keep from arousing the Order's suspicions

He resigned himself to murmuring an answer.

"Dean, Dean Finnigan," he muttered, keeping his head down. He only really had the hat and if Stan saw his eyes he'd be back in Privet Drive before he could say Gringotts.

"Well, Dean, where to?" Harry told him to drop him off at the Leaky Cauldron again, and the driver quickly obliged.

Harry idly re-checked his money bag. He really needed to refill it, especially if he was planning on doing a little shopping. He hoisted the small little backpack higher on his shoulders after he stowed away the pouch.

"Well, bye Dean!" Stan waved twice before the Bus went on it's own way. Harry smiled and kept walking, determined to continue his journey. The resplendent building of Gringotts stood before him, and he slipped in, unnoticed by the large throng of people.

He found a teller with a relatively short line, and waited quietly behind an old lady seeking to access her retirement fund.

When it was finally Harry's turn, the goblin leaned over slightly.

"Can I help you?" The goblin asked disdainfully. Harry shuddered slightly, but forced himself to stay polite.

"Er, yes please. Recently, my Godfather named me their head of house through a will. But he also declared that I was ready to become the Head of my original family's house as well. I was wondering how exactly I'd assume the position? And also, I'd like to withdraw some money."

* * *

The goblin raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised. This mere boy was to be Head of two Houses? He didn't seem to have any idea what he was doing! Nevertheless, he waved over another, lesser goblin.

He decided that he himself didn't have the time or the patience to deal with the brat.

If only he knew who the straggly boy in front of him really was.

* * *

"Shrinkcane, show this boy to the Inheritance office." A smaller goblin hurried over and bowed respectfully.

"Right this way," Shrinkcane squeaked. Harry followed him, effortlessly keeping up with his hurried pace. Shrinkcane knocked on a solid wooden door, and quickly disappeared inside.

He reappeared a few minutes later, and opened the door for Harry.

"Come in, please. Director Gornuk of the Inheritance office will see you now." And with that, the little goblin hurried off.

Harry stepped inside a large, professional office. Bookcases lined two of the walls, and in the very center there was a large, imposing desk that was full of neatly organized stacks of papers and files. Behind that desk sat a very imposing, bespectacled goblin.

"Hello. How can I be of assistance?" The goblin asked brusquely. Harry quickly took off the cap, and watched the goblin's eyes widen slightly in recognition.

"I'm here to talk about my Inheritance." Harry said simply.

* * *

"Very well, Mr. Potter. I'm assuming you would like to assume your position as Head of the Black House and the Potter house? I have heard that Sirius Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has named you his heir, and I am sure that your father, James Charlus Potter has named you his heir as well. However, an Inheritance Test would reveal if you are a part of any other bloodlines." Harry sat back, vaguely surprised. He wondered who else he was related to.

"Yes, I would like that." Gornuk simply produced a piece of parchment and a wicked silver dagger.

"You will need to place some of your blood onto this parchment please." Harry gingerly took the proffered knife and slit his palm carefully. He let a few drops fall onto the parchment and waited. The drops swirled upon contact, turning the whole parchment a murky dark red. The cut immediately healed with a little jolt, and Harry returned the knife to Gornuk. He began to study the parchment which slowly began clearing up.

Finally, the parchment cleared, and Gornuk picked it up. His black, shiny eyes widened, and he cleared his throat.

"It seems you are heir to quite a few bloodlines we previously thought extinct. You are, as you already know, heir to the House of Black and Potter through your godfather and father. You are also part of the Evanson bloodline through your mother. It seems she wasn't actually a first-generation witch, just a descendant from a very long line of squibs. I'll retrieve all of your vault information files." Gornuk snapped his fingers, and quite a few objects appeared in front of Harry.

Harry couldn't believe this! He was a descendant of three families! And his mother wasn't actually a muggleborn; Lily was descended from a wizarding line as well.

First, Gornuk held out few small ring-boxes.

"This," he pointed to the ring on the left, "is the Potter ring." The ring was beautiful, with a large ruby engraved with the Potter crest set in a simple gold band. Harry took a moment to admire the family heirloom.

"And this," Gornuk gestured to the ring on Harry's right, "is the Black ring." This ring, on the other hand, was an emerald engraved the the Black crest. It was surrounded by small black inlays and the band itself was silver and twisted intricately around the jewels. The effect was quite stunning and elegant.

"Unfortunately, all of the Evanson family heirlooms were lost when the last known Evansons died. The ring and precious family items were lost along with the bloodline. There is no trace of the Evanson family." Harry nodded, although slightly disappointed. The Evanson ring was a connection to his mother, a rare thing that he never really had.

"All you must do is put on the rings and wait for the family magic to accept you. If it accepts you, then we will proceed from there. If it does not, well…" Gornuk trailed off, and simply gestured toward the rings with on gnarled, scarred hand.

Harry hesitantly reached for the Potter ring and slipped it on. What if it didn't accept him? What if they both didn't accept him? What then?

His worries were unfounded, for the minute that he slid the ring onto his finger, the ring shrunk to fit. He was enveloped by a wave of pure magic, a wave of acceptance and love and family. He was overcome by the foreign emotions, but the feelings swept over him, soothing him like a cool balm on an irritated burn. Gornuk inclined his head.

"You have been accepted, Lord Potter." Feeling a lot less nervous, Harry reached for the Black ring and slid it on eagerly.

The ring glowed, and shrank slowly to fit his finger. Like the Potter ring, a wave of magic swept over Harry. Unlike the Potter magic, the Black family magic was cold and harsh and made Harry cringe. However, the feeling quickly passed and Harry was left with two rings, two titles, and multiple files. Gornuk turned to him, looking surprised- and a little bit greedy.

"Well, Lord Potter-Black, here are all of your bank vaults. These ledgers will inform you of all that is in your possession. They're self-updating, so you should get a fair bit of understand as to what is going on in here." Harry leaned over and began to flip through the files.

* * *

**_Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_**

_Liquid Assets- 250,000 galleons_

_Material Assets- 100,000 galleons_

* * *

**_Marauder S. Padfoot_**

_Liquid Assets- 200 galleons_

_Material Assets- Unknown_

* * *

_**Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter**_

_Liquid Assets- 5,000,000 galleons, 4 sickles, 6 knuts_

_Material Assets- 2,465,000 galleons, 3 sickles_

_Properties: 7_

_Stocks: 2,000 galleons_

* * *

_**Potter Trust Vault**_

_Liquid Assets: 2,000 galleons (refill from Family vault every year) _

* * *

Harry was shocked by the sheer numbers in front of him. He was rich. He was ridiculously, hilariously rich.

And to think, he didn't even realize he had another vault! He only knew about the trust vault (as sizeable as it was).

"May I enquire as to why you are so shocked? Surely you've been told about your wealth, Lord Potter-Black?" Harry shook his head. A small doubt was beginning to emerge.

"Er, no. I never even knew I had a family vault until now. I've only been told about my trust vault. I never got bank statements or anything like that either…" Gornuk looked angry.

"We send monthly bank statements. Surely your magical guardian has discussed them with you?" Harry shook his head, anger bubbling.

Dumbledore had stated that he himself was Harry's magical guardian. Why didn't he say anything about Harry's vaults or status?

"I haven't been told of anything!" Harry grumbled. The goblin's eyes narrowed.

"We better check your account history then." He flipped through the files.

"The Potter family vault has been left untouched, and only you are allowed access. As you are not of age yet, the Potter vault has only been gaining interest. The Black family vaults have been frozen for the past 13 or so years, and aha- your trust vault. Hmm, it seems to be the normal amount of withdrawals. Oh, here. Beginning of October, 1981. A sizable sum, made in your name. It seems to be made out to Quality Quidditch supplies? Did you buy yourself a broom, Lord Potter-Black?" Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh, no that was Professor McGonagall. She bought me a Nimbus 2000. Yeah, that's alright." He hadn't really known that Professor McGonagall had purchased it with his money- it was sensible, but it would have been nice to have been informed about it first. Ah, well.

"Oh, alright. There's another one around February, 1994. Another bill from the Quidditch store. It was a very sizable sum. Not enough for a broom, more for a repairs… Is that your purchase?" Harry shook his head, but a bit of consternation welled up.

His Firebolt! Of course. Professor McGonagall and Flitwick had claimed to strip it down and check for malevolent spells. He had, of course, merely assumed that they had reparo'd it or something. Of course, that was stupid. They had probably sent it back to the shop to get it repaired.  
He definitely would have appreciated an apology, or even a notice for that…

"No, that's alright too. But exactly who has access to my vault?" Gornuk re-scanned the paper.

"It seems that the only people with access to your vault are you, Albus Dumbledore, and Molly Weasley. Is there anyone you'd like to add or remove to the list?" Harry frowned.

"Yes, I'd like to remove both of them from the list. Have they made any withdrawals?" The goblin nodded.

"Molly Weasley has made a withdrawal of about 300 galleons every June since the summer of 1992." Harry was furious. She was stealing from him, and still claimed that he was a burden!

"Cut off all access, please. Now." The goblin nodded and made a little note.

"Additionally, your Magical Guardian Dumbledore has repeatedly requested access into your family vault by using his position. Would you like to grant him access?" Harry laughed.

"Absolutely not. I don't want him having access to any of my vaults, if that's possible." Harry stood up.

"I'd also like to see my properties, please?" Gornuk nodded and slid two folders over.

"These are all your properties." Harry glanced through the list. The Black properties included Grimmauld Place (and the wards around it) along with an apartment in Singapore (and the wards). The Potter properties were all over the world! There was the Godric's Hollow cottage (status: destroyed), Potter Manor (Status: destroyed), a New York Apartment (Status: empty), a French Villa (Status: empty), an Italian Villa (status: empty), a home in Singapore (status: empty), and a Cottage in Wales (status: empty).

"The properties are all under Fidelius, and as Head, only you know where they are. The Potter Manor is rumored to be destroyed. However, all of the possessions inside had been emptied out before its demise; they are in the family vault. There are portkeys that are keyed into your blood ring; they can take you to whichever one you choose. Would you like to visit one?" Harry scanned the list, looking for a potential place to live.

He wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys. He could live alone.

"I'd like the Portkey to Wales Cottage please," Harry asked. Gornuk rummaged through the file and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Go to the floo, Mr. Potter. Say this address and you will be taken there. When you want to return, simply say 'Inheritance Office, Gringotts'. I will await your return." Harry nodded. He hesitated, and then held out his hand.

"Er, thank you Gornuk. You've- you've been a really big help." Gornuk stared at his hand, looking bewildered. Finally, he grasped it quickly.

"Of course, Lord Potter-Black. Thank you for your business." And with that, Gornuk showed him to the floo in his office and offered him a small bag. Harry took a handful gratefully.

"77 Snidget Lane, Potter Cottage," Harry spoke clearly and slowly. And with a whoosh of emerald green flames, the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared from Gornuk's office.

* * *

**Hope everyone liked it xx**

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	4. Chapter 4

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-0o0o0-

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, nearly connecting his head to a dark handscraped wood floor. He groaned slightly and stood up, dusting himself off. He took a look around, and gasped.

The room was… amazing. Absolutely amazing. It was a living room, and a very nice one at that. The stone fireplace he had shot out of was large and light-colored, which contrasted the dark, hand-scraped stone very nicely. The room itself was large and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a lovely view of the mountains and the backyard.

Large, comfortable, and stylish brilliantly-white sofas were grouped around a low glass coffee table. A few more couches were scattered near the large fireplace. The coffee table sat above a plush white rug.

While the room was mostly white, the walls were a smooth, flawless cream and the furniture pieces were accented by colors of red, orange, and yellow. The cushions, the flowers, the paintings, were all varying degrees of the sunrise colors. A glass door led out to the terrace and backyard.

Harry kept exploring the room, looking for signs of inhabitants. He found none, and was slightly disheartened. The cottage seemed abandoned. However, it was extremely clean. Harry checked all the surfaces, only to find them dust-free. Harry's eyes widened.

House elves! Of course! They'd probably be taking care of the house despite its lack of residents! Harry tentatively called out for House elves.

Two _pops! _behind him alerted him to presences behind him. He whirled around and pointed his wand, ready for anyone. However, he only saw two little elves watching him warily. The smaller of the two stepped forward.

"Who is intruding into the Great Potter cottage?" It squeaked, angrily stomping it's foot. Harry quickly regained his senses. While elves didn't have a wand, they certainly had some powerful magic. After what happened to Lucius Malfoy in his second year at the hands of Dobby, Harry had no wish to see the business end of House Elf magic.

"Er, I'm Harry Potter. Son of James and Lily Potter?" The elves squeaked and immediately bowed low.

"Oh, Master Harry, yous is back! Oh Hermes, it's Master Harry!" The little elf squealed, rushing forward. The other elf, Hermes, was not far behind.

"Oh, Master Harry, Tipsy is remembering you as a little baby, she is! Tipsy used to sneak Master Harry little treats and find Master Harry's favorite toys." Harry smiled. Another connection to his life before the Dursleys.

"It's nice to meet you, Tipsy. I was wondering if you can give me a tour?" Tipsy nodded excitedly, and began pulling him along.

She showed him a kitchen, which was large and airy with a few windows. There was a large counter, icebox, and a pantry. The pantry and icebox were empty though, and the utensils were obviously unused for a while.

The Dining room held a table large enough for about 8-10 people, and held a small buffet table.

The library was next, and it was filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Hermes presented him with a book with all the names in the library. It was self-updating, so any newly added books would be stowed away here. All Harry had to do was tap the book with his wand, say the title, and the book would appear. To return a book he would simply tap the book with his wand and then tap the book.

Hermes then showed him the outdoor terrace. He had his own little pond, complete with fish and pretty little flowers. There was another body of water, but it was a pool that allowed him to swim. The terrace itself housed a few cushy chairs and tables, perfect for an outdoor afternoon tea.

Tipsy and Hermes dragged him upstairs, visibly excited to have company. They showed him the master suite first, and Harry couldn't even hold in his gasp.

Woah.

It was large, larger than the entire dorm at Hogwarts. The room was bathed in light let in by the large twin french doors that opened up into a private balcony. The room itself was done in white and black with hints of gold found in the pillows and the rug.

The bed was three times the size of the dorm bed, and even more comfortable. Tipsy explained it had been charmed for comfort. Instead of an alarm system, the bed would become less and less comfortable until the sleeper would finally wake up. There was a small glass bedside table near the bed holding a pitcher and a glass. The bookcases were built into the walls, but were empty. He had his own private fireplace and a few couches near it.

There was even a decent-sized desk.

The closet was attached, and it was rather large. It was, however, totally empty.

The bathroom was another heaven of sorts. It was made entirely of marble and held two large sinks, a tub that would fit Hagrid and Madame Maxime, and a shower about the same size.

It was perfect.

-0o0o0-

The remaining three bedrooms were average sized, larger than the Gryffindor dorm rooms but smaller than his own master suite.

Harry stopped and took a look around.

He loved it.

"Hey Tipsy," he called, beckoning the little house elf to him, "Is it possible for you and Hermes to get this house back into liveable conditions before tomorrow night? I'd like to take up residence in my new home." Tipsy squealed excitedly and assured him that the house would be ready for 'Master Harry' to live here by tonight.

"Call me Harry," Harry grinned, "and could you cook up something for me to eat? I'm starved!"

-0o0o0-

Harry returned to Gornuk's office fed to the point of bursting. Tipsy had been extremely indignant at the thought of muggles starving 'Lord Harry' and had conjured enough food to feed an army.

"Yes, Lord Potter-Black. I'm assuming you'd like to be taken to your vaults?" Harry nodded, discreetly loosening his pant buttons. He'd gotten a bit carried away with Tipsy, trying to make up for his lack of proper nourishment the past few days. Gornuk called over another goblin by the name of Razak.

They travelled to his trust vault first, wanting to withdraw some money. Harry began to scoop gold into his bag, but soon became frustrated with the weight.

"Razak, is there another way of carrying around wizarding money without having to lug it around in a bag?" Razak hesitated, then he nodded slowly.

"There is a money pouch that enable you to say the amount you would like to withdraw, and then reach in for the exact amount. It would, of course, be charged to your vault. And it would only be a one-time fee of 19 galleons. Would you like one?" Harry nodded, congratulating himself for asking such a good question.

"I'll take it! And are there any muggle items like that which would allow me to withdraw muggle money." Razak nodded, looking a bit more enthusiastic.

"Tell me, Lord Potter-Black, are you familiar with the muggle item 'credit card'?"

Harry grinned.

-0o0o0-

Harry stowed the bag and the wallet he had recently purchased into the small bag he had filched off of Dudley. He and Razak were currently speeding towards the Potter Vault, and Harry could distinctly feel himself becoming more and more excited.

Razak stroked the door carefully, and told Harry to do the same.

"It will recognize you as the Potter heir, and it will grant you entry." Harry nodded. The door shuddered, glowed, and then swung open. Harry stumbled in, still a bit disillusioned by the brightness of the glow. He stopped and his mouth fell to the floor, narrowly missing a pile of galleons.

The room was roughly 7 times the size of his trust vault, something that was not an easy feat. The ledger had said there was about 3 million galleons stowed away, collecting interest. However, the ledger hadn't said anything about the sheer amount of _stuff _in the vault. Everywhere Harry looked, there was furniture, paintings, swords, jewels, and antiques. There were also a few books scattered around.

He turned back to Razak.

"Am I allowed to take anything I want out of my vaults?" He asked. The goblin hesitated.

"You may take the possessions, but you can't touch the money until you're seventeen." Harry nodded. He hadn't been planning to take the money anyway. He had plenty from Sirius and his own trust vault, after all.

He wandered over to the paintings, hope blossoming in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, his parents had paintings?

He was completely, thoroughly, embarrassingly let down. There was no sign of his parents.

He wandered back to the front of the vault, trying to hide his dejection. Razak had left to stand outside the vault to give him privacy.

Harry turned to leave, but something caught his eye. A… Letter? He waded his way through a pile of emeralds before he pulled it away.

It was addressed to _him. _To Harry James Potter.

He slit it open, and out fell a letter.

He picked up the first one with trembling hands.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you are reading this, then you have survived Voldemort's attack and we have not. Don't worry, we wouldn't have it any other way. We both love you very much, and we really hope that you are happy growing up with Sirius or the Longbottoms. _

_We are proud, Harry, so proud of you. We're both sorry that we're not here, showing you the delightful mysteries of your family vault. All this, Harry, will one day become yours. _

_However, we want you to be careful. If you truly have survived against Voldemort, you will gain a lot of attention; both good and bad. We hope your guardians will be able to teach you exactly who is trustworthy and who is not._

_You meant the world to us, Harry. While we're sorry that we have not been able to witness you growing up, we would have sacrificed ourselves for you a thousand times over._

_Love always,_

_Lily and James Potter_

By the time he was finished, Harry had soaked his t-shirt with tears. He had always been told that his mum and dad had loved him, but this…

He stood up, his sense of purpose renewed. He quickly tucked the letters into his backpack and headed towards the books.

The books were mainly centered around Potter-related things. There were a few books about the Potter history, and a book of spells created by Potters only.

Harry took all 5. Before he left, he saw a tapestry much like the one in Grimmauld place. He traced all the way down the line, and then he found himself.

There, under the connected names of Lily and James Potter, was Harry James Potter.

He was a bit surprised to see how many people he was actually related to.

Eurgh. Pureblood inbreeding was _gross. _

Their next and final stop was the vault of Marauder S. Padfoot. Harry was surprised to see that there was money in this vault as well. Wow. He was practically rolling in galleons. From what was in the file, there were about 200 galleons in the vault. Harry left those alone for now. It wasn't like he needed them.

However, that wasn't the most valuable item in the small vault. It was the large golden book filled with pictures and journals and prank ideas that was truly priceless to Harry.

Pictures of his mum, dad, Remus, and Sirius waving and laughing at him filled Harry's vision. They were all different ages. There were even a few pictures with him as a baby, smiling and gurgling and looking heartbreakingly happy.

There was even another copy of the Marauders' Map and notes on how exactly they had made it.

There were his father's journals on how they became animagi as well. Harry was overwhelmed. Here, in this tiny vault- here was the treasure that Harry would never be able to replace.

And to top it off, there was another letter.

_Prongslet,_

_If you're reading this, then I either forgot to burn it or I'm dead. If I'm not dead, you can stop now and go yell at me for leaving this around._

_Unfortunately, I'm going to assume it's the second scenario._

_I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so so so sorry. I know I've been a failure of a godfather. I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been there for you when you've needed it. I'll never forgive myself for that. And I won't blame you if you don't either._

_But please understand that I can never love you any more than I already do. I didn't run after Pettigrew that night just for James and Lily, Harry. I ran after him to avenge you. I wanted to kill him for destroying your life, even if killing him would destroy mine._

_I was a bit unhinged, as you can probably tell._

_But Harry, if there's one thing that I was proud of (besides befriending your prat father and being an animagus), it's the fact that I had been allowed to be your godfather. _

_I'm proud of you, Prongslet. So damn proud of who you are. You are twice the man I was at your age. Hell, you're twice the man I ever was._

_But I have some advice. Granted, I'm not really a grown-up, but I've got some words that might help you. _

_Judge others by their actions, not someone else's words. Choose your friends wisely (duh), there are many out there who don't see you as the Godson of the Charming Sirius Black. They see you as the mere Boy-Who-Lived. Pity. _

_And Harry, train. Train yourself to defeat Voldemort, because Dumbledore and the Order sure as hell aren't going to help you. In fact, I think that Dumbledore's counting on some sort of mutual destruction. But Harry, I want you to live. I want you to live the life that James, Lily and I never could _

_In order to help you, I've ordered a special trunk. Go to the Magical Luggage shop in Diagon Alley and give them this receipt. Since your Firebolt was your 13 years' worth of Birthday presents, the trunk is your 13 years' worth of Christmas presents._

_I'm sorry for leaving you Prongslet. However, I hope not to see you for a very long time, you hear?_

_Love,_

_Sirius Black_

_Daring, Dashing Godfather_

_Padfoot out._

For the second time that day, Harry cried.

However, he didn't allow himself to cry for long.

The journals, notes, and photo album went into his small backpack. The poor thing was already bursting at the seams (and becoming quite heavy too), but Harry relentlessly took everything he could afford to take. He had a sudden idea. He turned back to Razak.

"Could you package everything but the galleons? I'd like to send one of my house-elves to collect them. Her name is Tipsy. Is this possible?" Harry asked. Razak nodded and snapped his fingers. The rest of the items were carefully packaged.

"Thank you Razak." Harry replied gratefully. He rummaged around in his bag for his trusty hat, but Razak stopped him.

"I believe you're in need of a disguise?" Razak asked, smirking. Harry nodded cautiously. Razak snapped his fingers, and Harry immediately felt himself being cloaked by some sort of magic. Razak handed him a mirror. Instead of his normal bright-green-eyes-black-messy-haired relection, Harry was greeted by a brown eyed, brown haired man who was a bit taller and stockier than Harry's usual self.

"Thanks Razak. This is absolutely perfect! But, er, how do I lift it?" The goblin showed his teeth.

"It will wear off in about 36 hours, Lord Potter-Black. Nobody will be able to see through it until then." Harry nodded.

It was time to do some shopping.

-0o0o0-

**Whew! Now that's out of the way!**

**Review goal: how about… 8 reviews for this chapter? Please? Don't worry, no chapter will be withheld because of a review shortage. I solemnly swear it.**

**Hope you liked it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow! The response to this story has literally blown me into the Forbidden Forest! (sorry)**

**I just want to talk about one thing: alerts. There are over a hundred people who have this story on alerts. Don't get me wrong, I'm **_**thrilled **_**that so many people actually value my work enough to follow it**_**. **_**But since you obviously like the story, can you please just leave a review as to which part you liked or what you'd like to see? Thank you.**

**Now, since that's taken care of… **

**Enjoy xx**

-o0o-

Harry stood at the exit of Gringotts, mentally wondering where exactly he would start.

_Well, I've never really had proper magical clothing, _Harry reasoned, _and I am technically Lord Potter-Black. _

He stopped at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Oh, hi. I'm Elizabeth. Can I help you find anything?" A middle aged assistant rushed over. She flicked her hair out of her eyes, looking exceptionally harried.

"Hello, I'd- I'd like a new wardrobe please?" Harry stammered. She sighed, clearly too busy for his request.

"Alright, so let's start with some informal robes, shall we?" She pushed him over to the informal robe sections.

Elizabeth piled black and grey robes into Harry's arms, and quickly moved onto the formal robes.

"Here, how about Bottle Green, black with gold accents, and grey with red accents." She dumped those robes into his arms too, and Harry found himself struggling to see ahead.

"Okay, now let's get you hemmed," she said again, whipping out her tape measure. She had him measured in minutes.

"Okay, come back in a few hours and I'll get these fixed right up for you. Would you like any charms on these?" She asked. Harry nodded.

"Er, yes please. Impervious to dirt, sweat, or stains, if that's possible. Additionally, I'd like them to be able to grow and change with me?" She nodded easily, these charms seemed to be totally normal.

"Of course dear. Now, do you have a name you'd like to put these under?" Harry nodded, already overwhelmed.

"Er, James. James Evans." She nodded, and began to leave. However, he stopped her.

"Er, Elizabeth? Is there any place I can get Dragonhide Stuff? Or a watch?" She turned back slowly.

"Well, there's a shop in Knockturn Alley that sells Dragonhide Armor…" She hesitated. Harry nodded, making a mental note to look there later.

"As for the watch, I'd go to the Jewellery store right next door. They sell the most beautiful watches. I'd gotten one for my nephew, and he absolutely loved it! He never even took it off…" She trailed off, clearly remembering her rather busy schedule. She gave him a quick smile.

"Oh, I hope that helped, Dear. Excuse me, it is a really busy day at the shop. We'll ring you up when you come back for your order, alright? Have a wonderful day." And with that, she left, leaving only a faint scent of old lady perfume behind.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't help being overwhelmed. His visit to Madam Malkin's had taken only half an hour! Hopefully, the rest of his shopping places took the same amount of time.

_Yeah, right. _

-o0o-

Harry quickly made his way to Twilfitt and Tattings. He noted with a growing amount of distaste that the store was sophisticated to the point of snobbery.

"Name?" The attendant immediately asked, not even waiting for Harry to finish walking through the door.

"Er, Evans. James Evans." The attendant nodded, eyebrow raising. The attendant, whose name badge read Moriarty, sniffed disdainfully and walked away. Before he left, Harry could hear him mutter a "not even a pureblood name, who does he think he is?".

_Alright, that's it. I can't get out of this uppity hellhole fast enough. _Harry panicked. He calmly walked over to the attendant, and took out his pouch.

The assistant's eyes widened in recognition as he realized what the pouch did. He knew enough about fashion to know that only the rich families bothered to use those bags.

"Not everyone has to be a pureblood to be able to shop here," Harry said simply. He walked off.

He was perfectly all right with his blood status, and would just have to find the stores who felt the same.

-o0o-

Harry's next stop was to Flourish and Botts, Diagon Alley's favorite bookstore. Since he had all the time he really needed, he figured he could afford to do light reviews on his school subjects. After all, he needed all he could get in order to battle Voldemort. If a simple levitation charm could knock out a troll, who knows what else could help?

He got a few light review books for Charms, opting for the OWL review books instead of the specific years. He had time, but he didn't have _that _much time.

For Potions, however, he went a little more in-depth. He purchased a beginners' to potions. The text talked about the basics of brewing, the purpose of each ingredient and their interaction with others, etc. It even threw in a few tips on improving one's brewing. However, the main reason Harry purchased the text was because the Owner had told him that most of the Slytherins (and a few Ravenclaws) would owl-order the book a few weeks after their first year started. Harry had nearly snarled at that.

_It was probably just another way to elevate his Slytherins above others, _Harry mused savagely.

For History of Magic, he not only bought the OWL Review edition, but the more recent history books as well. After all, if he was fighting for the future, Goblin Wars weren't going to be much help compared to, say, Grindelwald's rise to power. For Herbology, he only purchased a text on plants with healing properties. Besides Devil's Snare (possibly to strangle his enemies to death), there wasn't really a way _plants _were going to help him win a war.

He found a rather helpful bunch of books on DADA that detailed duelling, defense, and a list of incapacitating but not completely fatal curses, jinxes, and hexes. There was even a helpful one titled 'Duelling Dirty'.

Harry had a lot of time to think about his decision, so he felt that using less than conventional ways (aka 'Light' Magic) wasn't always the way to solve his problem.

To his dismay but not surprise, there weren't any books in Flourish and Botts that detailed any magic other than light.

It seemed that he'd be forced into Knockturn Alley for those.

Nevertheless, Harry looked around for some other books that could probably help him.

56 minutes later, Harry found himself heading to the counter behind a large sack of books. Not only did he have his previous stash of books, he also found a book on the basics of apparition, a book that was Occlumency theory (apparently, Legilimency was considered a 'dark' practice), a book that detailed basic dark magic protection, and a book that talked about curses, hexes, jinxes, and their counter-curses. It mainly described the difference and how to know which one was which.

However, Harry was particularly excited about Ancient Runes. He had purchased both a beginner's guide and the year 3-7 books. Hermione had always raved over this book, so he was particularly interested to see how it would help.

Also, he had read somewhere that some runes were particularly helpful defensive measures, and he needed all the help he could get with that.

He also purchased a small, rather light book on household charms. There were two sections to the book: one focused on spells that helped a person do regular chores, while the other focused on charms that improved the quality of living.

For example, the first section talked about charms that helped you cook food quicker while maintaining a good consistency, or charms that acted like a broom that sweeped away the mess. There was even one that helped wash clothes or dishes! The second part focused on charms that could help make plates unbreakable, or floors unscuffable, etc.

In short, Harry had exited the store a good amount of galleons lighter.

-o0o-

Eeylops Owl Emporium was purely a stop for Hedwig. Even if things went according to the plan and Hedwig never had to touch his cold, canned soup leftovers again, he still wanted to buy her something special.

He had bought a large bag of owl treats (apparently, they were worth a year's supply) and a spacious new cage and separate perch just for her. After all, his first friend deserved the best of the best.

-o0o-

Likewise, the Apothecary was a rather short visit. However, his short visit had yielded a rather large amount of products. He bought rather generous amounts of almost every ingredient in store. The manager of the store, seeing how Harry was obviously not like his usual customers, nearly tripped over himself to gain favor.

"See here, sir, this is a pamphlet that details all the uses for each ingredient that you buy. It's extremely informative, and could potentially be helpful for someone who is obviously so interested in potions. Since you've already purchased an exorbitant amount of goods, I'll throw it in for a mere 20 sickles." Harry eagerly snatched up the pamphlet and added it to his mountainous pile of purchases.

Harry walked out, feeling excited. He deposited his shrunken, feather-light bags from all stores into his small backpack and briskly walked towards the one shop he truly couldn't wait to go into: Morgan's Magical Luggage. He clutched the receipt tightly, leaving nightmarish wrinkles in the parchment.

The door jingled open, and a short, stocky man with extremely bushy eyebrows and a large potbelly bustled over.

"Hello, sir. Welcome to Morgan's Magical Luggage. I'm Ernest Morgan, owner of the shop. What can I help you with today?" Harry smiled nervously.

"Er, well, a family member of mine recently passed away. He gave me this receipt as a… farewell present, and said to present it to you?" The man eagerly took the receipt, then widened his eyes in surprise and shock.

"Very well then. Please follow me."

-o0o-

"This, sir, is my pride and joy. Possibly one of the best and most unique trunks ever made." Harry found it hard to pop his jaw back into place, as it was currently on the same level as his feet.

The trunk was beyond anything he'd ever seen.

The exterior was a deep, polished mahogany, with ornate carvings around the border. The trunk boasted golden fixings that contrasted rather magnificently with the smooth, polished wood of the rest of the trunk.

"Yes, it's a beauty, isn't it?" Mr. Morgans admired it alongside Harry, then turned back to business.

"Of course, it's charmed against damage. It's fireproof, waterproof, and wearproof. However, Unforgivables might damage the shrinking and featherlight charms built into it. However, the most unique aspect is actually the interior." Harry turned to him, surprised. Shrinking charms? Featherlight charms? What else could he possibly need?

"There are three expandable compartments, and they can hold up to 300% capacity each. There's one large room that's guarded against spells, most likely a training and fitness room, considering the equipment located inside. There's a living compartment inside. Basically, it's like an apartment. It comes with a fully furnished, properly equipped bedroom, bathroom, study, kitchenette, and living room. There's also an informal dining room connected to the kitchen. The living compartment is actually furnished rather luxuriously, if I say so myself. There's a whole compartment dedicated to a library. The bookshelves are floor-to-ceiling, and I think they're capable of expanding even past that. The books were apparently furnished by the family. There's also a potions lab, at least I believe that's what it was. The room was warded against explosions and there seems to be above-average ventilation in that compartment as well. However, it isn't very well-stocked. Practically bare, really.

"And lastly, my favorite room, to be honest, is the party room. The room is basically a multifunctional area. It is a furnished lounge, but the ceilings are actually high enough to fly around near. There's even a bar, and apparently it is stocked. You look to be overage, so I won't be raising any protests. Don't worry," he chuckled, "that's not really my business.

"So," Morgans asked, sucking in a deep breath, "what do you think?" Harry stared, openmouthed. He was completely and totally overwhelmed.

_Damn, Sirius. This isn't 13 years worth of Christmas presents. This is a lifetime's worth of everything. _

"Wow," he managed. The stocky manager chuckled.

"Yes, it certainly is." He agreed before ushering him over to the register.

"Wait," Harry blurted out. "I'd like to look around, if that's alright." The manager looked surprised, then ashamed.

"Of course! My apologies. Go on, take your time!" He disappeared into the back of the store, promising to package the trunk for him.

Harry looked around, but all he found was a Messenger Bag and a Never-Expiring Icebox. The bag was charmed to be featherlight and bottomless. It was a handsome grey leather, and it came at a decent price. Apparently, the leather was charmed against stains or tears. It would protect anything inside it well.

-o0o-

"Thank you for your business!" Morgan waved cheerfully from behind the counter. Harry smiled and waved back.

He exited the shop and turned into a quaint little tea shop.

He turned back to the trunk, and opened his backpack. The poor thing was clearly well-worn because of all the stuff he had crammed into it, so Harry took pity on it. He quickly emptied it and left it lying in the side alley.

He held his breath as he pressed his hand into the side of the trunk. According to Morgan, the trunk was keyed to his magical signature only. With a small click, the trunk slid open smoothly. He gave a sigh of relief and excitement. It actually worked!

The rest of the stuff he had in his trunk. He kept the precious items from the vaults in one compartment of his new trunk and the rest of his new purchases in a different one. He quickly tapped the now closed trunk with his wand, and the trunk shrunk to the size of a matchbox.

As much as he wanted to explore the trunk, he had other things to do and not that much time to do them. He only had until tomorrow afternoon until his disguise wore off, and he wasn't even closed to finishing his purchases!

Harry's next stop was a little store by the name of Scribbulus Writing Instruments. He purchased quite a few Dicta-Quills, Autoquills and parchment that was impervious to staining or water. He also purchased professionally monogrammed parchment, figuring he'd need it for future business ideas. While Harry was never a fanatic about this stuff, he was definitely satisfied with the shop.

-o0o-

Potage's Cauldron Shop had also earned him a few treasures. He had purchased a gold and a silver cauldron. Both of the contents were impervious to vanishing from anyone other than him, and they were impervious to spilling as well. He also made purchased a few self-stirring rods, along with a bunch of unbreakable vials. He did not need any more 'accidents' in Snape's potion class.

He also looked for a vision shop, wanting to fix his glasses. The Dursleys hadn't changed his prescription ever since he originally received his glasses (age 6), and he was pretty sure he had outgrown both the glasses and his vision. He found a little shop tucked into the corner of Diagon Alley.

The lady quickly measured his eyesight and fixed him up with round, yet smart-looking glasses that fit him much better. As soon as he put them on, the world was thrown into a much sharper focus than before.

The kind lady also added charms that made the glasses impervious to rain, dirt, breakage, or summoning from anyone but Harry himself. She also charmed the glasses to adopt around his vision.

"Alright, have a nice day. Thank you for your business." She smiled and cheerfully showed him out of her shop.

Wow. This whole shopping wasn't _too_ bad, after you ignored his aching feet and brain.

-o0o-

"I understand you're interested in a broomstick?" The manager of Broomstix, looked over the counter speculatively at Harry. He nodded vigorously. He would rather swallow his own tongue than damage Sirius's Firebolt. However, he didn't really have an interest in giving up on flying. Hence, the new broom.

"Yes, I am. I was wondering what your latest model is?" Harry asked politely. The man's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, our latest in the Nimbus Collection is the Nimbus 2004." Harry nodded, and the manager guided him to the broom. He checked the price, and it was reasonable enough. More expensive than his Nimbus 2000 obviously, but probably cheaper than his Firebolt.

He added his broom to the trunk later, and slipped it back into his pocket.

_You're almost finished._

-o0o-

The watch shop was rather small, but was full of expensive timepieces. The owner himself had guided Harry to the luxurious section of watches.

Harry found one watch he particularly liked. It was a monochrome grey. The band itself was a dark and light grey interspersed with gold accents. The surface of the face itself was smooth, and had two faces. One face would tell the exact time and date. The other face was much like the Weasley family clock. The manager showed him how to add people. He just pressed on a certain person's face, and he would know about their vitals and status (eg. travelling, at work, at school, at home, mortal peril). However, he needed a bit of the person's blood for it, so he'd probably be temporarily unable to add anyone else.

By the time he was finished, it was almost sundown. Harry quickly decided to take a break for some extremely needed food.

He headed to the Leaky Cauldron, totally famished. He realized with a jolt that the last thing he had eaten were Tipsy's sandwiches.

As delicious as they were, they weren't wholesome enough to get him through shopping for extreme amounts of time. Tom, the wizened barman, greeted him with a friendly, if a little impatient smile.

"Hello, good sir. What can I get for you?" Harry ordered a full dinner, complete with a bottle of cold butterbeer. He was rather glad that his disguise had held up rather well; getting mobbed in the Leaky Cauldron would be a true nightmare. Plus, Dumbledore had spies everywhere. Who knew what would happen if Harry's impromptu outing had reached his ears before Harry could truly disappear?

Yes, he really was lucky for Razak's help.

Tom brought him his food quickly, and Harry found himself attacking his food.

Ahh. Delicious.

Harry sat back contentedly, absentmindedly patting his now-satisfied stomach.

He knew that Razak had applied the glamor in the morning, and it would take about 24-36 hours to fade. He supposed the glamour wouldn't really matter in the muggle world, considering he was just another nobody there.

So basically, he just needed to tackle Knockturn Alley before the glamour wore off. He finally stood up.

He would go shopping for his muggle clothes tomorrow. But tonight- tonight he'd be journeying into Knockturn Alley.

There was something seriously wrong with him.

-o0o-

**Right. Part two will probably not be coming that soon… Sorry, but I have school again and now everything is crazy! And guess what?! Next Wednesday's my birthday! **

**And as a present, how about leaving a nice little review?**

**Hope you liked it!**

-o0o-


	6. Chapter 6

Harry nervously cast another look around, hoping desperately that nobody paid too much attention to him unsuccessfully trying to skulk into Knockturn Alley. He kept himself in the shadows, trying to blend in with the rather suspicious crowd.

Fortunately, years of living with the Dursleys had resulted in the ability to blend in with one's surroundings rather masterfully, so Harry snuck down the alleyway without much trouble.

He wandered around a bit, mainly perusing the type of shops. He finally took a right near the end of the alley and found himself in front of a shop about half the size of Flourish and Botts. However, it was in a horrifying condition, with a faded, peeling sign and cracked glass doors. However, Harry was in no mood to be picky. He cautiously crossed the threshold, and found the inside of the store to be much larger than the outside. Bookshelves were crammed in, nearly collapsing under the weight of the books on their shelves. While the inside was larger than the outside, it was in no better condition. The bookshelves were worn, and the few tables scattered around the shop were rickety and frail.

A wizened old man peeked out from the bookshelves, looking straight at Harry.

"Can I help you?" He asked suspiciously. Harry shook his head weakly, trying to take the store in.

"Er, no. I'll just be looking for some books now. I think I can manage on my own." The man nodded once and immediately disappeared back into the bookshelves.

Harry immediately found that the store was stocked with all kinds of books. Dark ritual books were mixed with student textbooks and children's wizarding fairy tales.

Worst of all, these books had no particular organization pattern. So Harry was forced to browse each and every one of the shelves to find something interesting.

-o0o-

An hour and a half later, Harry finally collapsed at the register, feeling thoroughly exhausted yet triumphant.

His long, relentless search had certainly paid off.

He found all kinds of unique books. There was Most Potente Potions, the book that helped them immensely in second year. Harry also found a few books on the different types of wards, including a few dark wards that had made him shudder with horror.

Fortunately, the bookstore carried a few books on the mind magics, talking extensively about the theory of both Occlumency _and _Legilimency. A few texts detailed the process of becoming an Animagus, something Harry was _definitely _interested in learning. An animagus could be invaluable, both as an escape route or a weapon.

Additionally, he knew little to nothing about history. Binns never properly covered many topics besides the Goblin Wars, something Harry found particularly unhelpful at the moment. He hated to do it, but he knew he had to research the history of Voldemort. He found a book- an absolutely horrible book- detailing Voldemort's first Rise to Power. It provided a very vague explanation of his history, but it was good compared to what he had before- which was pretty much nothing.

He found an intriguing text titled _Controlling Your Child's magic, _a text detailing something called magical blocks. It talked of placing them, removing them, reducing or reinforcing them, etc.

Harry had also discovered a new magical wonder: self-updating books. There was a book on Potions, Offensive/Defensive spells, Healing spells, and other Miscellaneous spells.

When Harry asked why all books weren't self-updating, the owner of the bookstore had snapped that the books were ridiculously expensive to make, and were only updated when the Master Copy was. He warned Harry that the price was extremely high for one book, let alone for 4, but Harry was already enchanted by the books. Besides, price wasn't really a problem for him, was it?

-o0o-

Once again, the books were safely tucked away in his trunk, which was safely tucked away in his pocket. He set about wandering the streets once more (still firmly in the shadows), and soon came upon a potions shop.

Unlike the bookstore, the inside of the shop was full of clean, neatly organized and labelled shelves. The shelves were filled with various potions and ingredients. The sheer quantity of merchandise made Harry's head spin. He finally settled on purchasing a few sets of potions kits. The kits contained instructions and ingredients to create one-two doses of a specific potion. Harry, recognizing Polyjuice and Veritaserum, picked those two up immediately. He poked around and finally decided on buying an interesting potion called Drought of Living Death, a love potion named Amortentia (he just wanted to study the effects of course…), and finally, a very special little potion kit that advertised 'Felix Felicis', or liquid luck.

Harry figured that since he got regularly screwed in his life, he might as well have a bit of help in his endeavors.

The clerk rang up his purchases, eyebrows raising higher and higher with each items placed in front of him.

"Damn, boy. What exactly are you doing?" Harry answering smile was fierce.

"I'm planning to win a war, sir."

-o0o-

Harry walked into the next shop, still chuckling slightly from the man's reaction. Or rather, the lack of. The man simply nodded, as if to say, _yeah, I get that all the time. Just a normal day in Knockturn Alley. _Harry was surprised to see how differently he was treated when he had brown hair and eyes.

If Harry Potter (who actually looked like Harry Potter) were to say that in a Knockturn Alley potions shop, there would have been an extremely different response.

Harry gazed up at the shop in front of him. It was near the very back of the alley, close to the bookstore he had visited not-so-long-ago.

_Foreign Magics, _the shop read. Intrigued, Harry pushed open the door. A small roar rung out as soon as he crossed the threshold, and he looked up to find a miniature dragon, not unlike the Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament, blinked down at him, a small puff of smoke escaping it's nostrils. He grimaced as the memories washed over him.

A small, rotund little man popped out of nowhere. He grinned cheerfully at Harry.

"Hello! Welcome to Foreign Magics. I'm Forian Fertiling. On the right, you will find various foreign trinkets and interesting baubles perfect for gifts. On the left, you will find various foreign items and foreign focus merchandise. Now, how may I help you?" He asked politely. Harry smiled a little. Most Knockturn Alley shopkeepers were (rightfully so, considered their normal customers) were quite suspicious and curt, but this man was almost bursting with sincere eagerness instead of the usual impatience.

"I'm actually wondering what your merchandise is. Your sign mentioned foreign focus items? What exactly _are _those?" Harry asked helplessly. He hated to admit it, but he was totally clueless when it came to foreign affairs. After all, the Dursleys had barely allowed him out of his cupboard and Hogwarts preferred to focus on British Magical History. The tiny wizard practically beamed.

"Ah, finally! A person new to this! Well, you know about the magical core, correct?" He continued on, barely waiting for Harry's nod of acknowledgement.

"Well, it's very difficult to do, erm, let's call it 'raw magic'. It's a very precise and exacting skill, and lots of people don't have the patience, skill, or ability to do that. Besides, it's very vague, so it's very hard to concentrate properly. Hence, people have created a magical 'focus', if you will. Something that enables you to channel your magic and create, well, a focus! Most of Europe has become dependant on wands, as you very well know." Harry nodded his understanding, and tried to curb his growing excitement for what this man was implying.

"Well, other foreign countries who don't have the same amount of resources can't use so much wood just for wands, you know? So they create different magical focus items. Plus, they're foreign, so the British Magical Ministry can't trace the magical signature. Well, that's actually because my shop is temporary, so I haven't found a need to, erm, _register _my merchandise with the Ministry," he winked at Harry, who grinned back admiringly.

"So, what do you have?" Harry asked finally. The man's grin grew impossibly wide, and he gently dragged Harry deeper into the shop.

-o0o-

Harry kept running his hand through the box, trying to keep his frustration under control. They had browsed through almost all kinds of magical items, and none had been a perfect match yet.

They were currently trying out some Indian focus rings. The rings were made of wood and had a special core. They were very similar to a wand, except for the fact that the wood was circular and could fit onto a finger.

He finally touched one and yelped at what felt a giant fire running through his arm. He drew his hand back, but immediately began missing the warmth.

It hadn't hurt, not really. It had just been slightly too warm at first. He tentatively stuck his hand back in the box, and sighed at the warm, reassuring spark. He turned eagerly to the owner of the shop and grinned widely.

"Found it."

-o0o-

"Holy hell, sir! This is a supremely powerful wand! Let's see," Fertiling ran his wand carefully over the ring, "oh yes, Willow wood, demiguise hair, and a hint of a dragon scale. This wand's truly one for a warrior, Mr. Potter. A warrior that wants to fight in the shadows." Harry jerked his head up in surprise, and quickly reached for his wand. However, Fertiling quickly put his hands up in the air.

"Obviously, I don't mean you any harm, silly boy. Of course, the wards exposed your true identity the minute you stepped through the threshold. It's a rather interesting piece of work. Passed down exclusively from my family for multiple generations of generations, you see." He babbled on, eagerly explaining how he knew who Harry was.

"I have an idea of what you're up against, Mr. Potter. And I know how much help you are going to need," he clapped his hands.

"Alright, so why don't we take a look at some other magical items?"

-o0o-

Harry walked out with a new focus ring worn on his right hand and a magic carpet tucked carefully into his trunk. Fertiling had cautioned him to avoid revealing the carpet, warning him that carpets were illegal as well.

He checked his new watch and winced. Time for some sleep. He headed back to the Leaky Cauldron and quietly paid for a nice little room.

_Tomorrow is muggle shopping, _Harry promised himself one last splurge. After all, he was making up for 14 years worth of neglect.

-o0o-

A good night's sleep and a large breakfast later, Harry was in his room once more. He locked the door and thanked Tom for adding silencing charms on every room. Harry would have applied them himself, but he only had a few pamphlets on his focus ring and didn't want to risk doing something wrong. Plus, his wand still had a trace and maybe even a few tracking charms of Dumbledore's, knowing him.

He called Tippy and Hermes. With a large _crack, _they both appeared before him, already sweeping down in a bow before he knew what was going on.

"Master has called?" Tippy squeaked, while Hermes merely looked at Harry with his protuberant eyes. Harry nodded.

"Yes, I need both of your help." They both nodded enthusiastically.

"We would be honored to serve our young Master Harry," Hermes croaked. His voice was deeper than Tippy, but barely deeper than a 10 year old human male.

"Tippy, I have a few things from Gringotts I'd like you to retrieve, if you don't mind. The goblins have packed everything away. Can you please make sure you won't be taking any money though?" Tippy nodded and simply _crack_ed away. He then turned to Hermes.

"Hermes, I need you to go to Number 4 Privet Drive. The second bedroom's mine. I need you to put all of my stuff in the trunk, and then come get me when you and Tippy have finished. Do you think you can do that before," Harry checked his watch, "dinner tonight?" Hermes nodded excitedly.

"Yes, Master Harry. We can finish by lunch, if you would like us to," Hermes offered. Harry nodded happily.

"That'd actually be great. Thank you Hermes." The elf bowed low again and disappeared once more.

-o0o-

The shopping districts in High-end Muggle London were rather amazing, if Harry did say so himself. The sheer variety was staggering; there were about thirty different options for everything.

_How do people deal with so much choice? _Harry asked himself. He had never really had the power of choice in his life.

Good thing he had the rest of his life to remedy that.

He caught sight of himself in a shop window and sighed, both in relief and regret. He was Harry Potter once more.

He was glad that Harry Potter was just another rich teenager in Muggle London.

-o0o-

He began with informal clothing. He quickly narrowed down to a few stores where both the salespeople and the clothing was to his taste.

A young, friendly girl approached him immediately, offering her assistance. When he mentioned purchasing an entire wardrobe, her eyes immediately lit up. She began to drag him all over the (extremely large) store, exclaiming that he just _had _to try on that green shirt that would match his eyes just _perfectly_ {insert girly squeals here}. Nevertheless, the girl, Angela, had very good taste. She quickly found Harry a number of well-fitting t-shirts, jeans, button-up shirts, and slacks.

As they moved onto formal wear, she found him a few dashing tuxedos and well fitting slacks and dress shirts. She even handed him a few silk ties that made him look rather elegant.

As a neglected freak, Harry had never felt elegant in his relatively short life.

-o0o-

While he was rather reluctant to say goodbye to Angela's good taste, Harry was forced to find a different store for exercise wear. That London store, according to his new favorite salesgirl, was simply "too high-end" to sell proper sportswear.

Harry decided to treat himself to a nice french restaurant. The restaurant and it's staff was very snobby, and the food came in pixie-size proportions.

Needless to say, he had spent quite a bit of money on quite a bit of nothing. He later found a delicious little hole-in-the-wall restaurant and got a bucket of fish and chips.

It wasn't hard to realize which one he preferred.

-o0o-

Another store yielded quite a bit of exercisewear. Harry ended up purchasing sweatshirts, sweatpants, long running shorts, and exercise tees (both long-sleeved and short). The store also stocked up on night wear, and Harry found himself buying proper pyjamas for the first time, along with underwear and socks.

A shoe store later, and Harry was the proud owner of quite a few running shoes, casual shoes, and dress shoes. He also found some gloves and scarves (England was cold in the winter, as was Scotland), and a new leather wallet for his muggle credit card. He planned to charm the wallet with a notice-me-not charm to avoid theft.

Harry kept most of his merchandise in his trunk, which he kept in his pocket. He then spent the rest of his afternoon in a small park, waiting for Hermes to come.

-o0o-

"Apologies for the delay, Master Harry. Tippy ran into some trouble with the goblins. They insisted that she prove her identity multiple times. As if they believed Tippy was an imposter." She sniffed disdainfully, making Harry grin.

"It's okay Tippy. I'm not upset. Is the cottage ready?" Tippy nodded excitedly.

"Hermes and Tippy are very happy that Master Harry is returning, they is." Harry nodded and agreed. He was rather excited to be free of the Dursleys.

He cast one more look around his hated bedroom, and turned to Hermes and Tippy.

"Alright, can you guys wait for a second? I just need to write a letter." They nodded while Harry scrounged for a quill and parchment.

He wrote three words and carefully set the parchment on his bed. He then took a step back and took one last look around.

"Alright guys. Let's go home."

With a small _pop, _Harry Potter disappeared from Number 4 Privet Drive, never to return.

-o0o-

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	7. Chapter 7

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-o0o-

Vernon Dursley never pretended that he was an exceedingly smart man. He had cruised through Smeltings on his father's donation and his own bullying of smarter students. Likewise, he had bootlicked and bullied his way up the chain at Grunnings.

In short, Vernon Dursley didn't know a lot of things besides being the bully or being bullied. But he did know that not seeing a teenage boy come out of his room to eat or do chores for two whole days was not a good sign.

He had finally caved, and found himself outside of his freaky nephew's door. He found himself slightly frightened of what laid behind that door. Was it a corpse, or the freak up to his usual nonsense?

He rapped on the door smartly, figuring there was no use dilly-dallying in front of a door in his own home.

However, his knocking was met with silence. He knocked again, exerting slightly more force. Irritation bloomed in his large, flabby chest. _Why wasn't the freak answering?_

After 3 minutes of impatient waiting, Vernon finally blew his lid.

"BOY! You open this door right now, you hear?" He shouted. He heard Petunia shuffling around their room, seemingly pulling on a dressing gown. Dudley's constant snores even ceased, but Vernon was far too incensed to care.

"I'm coming in!" Vernon shouted, breaking out in a cold sweat. Despite the fact that the teenager inside was much smaller and skinnier than his hulking self, Vernon couldn't help but feel a little _afraid. _He never usually ventured into the freak's room, especially when the freak was gone. Who knew what traps and weird items he left behind whenever he went to that- that cracked up school of his.

But Vernon quickly put that out of his mind as he threw his shoulder against the door. The poor slab of wood shook, but held it's own against the whale's frightening weight. He slammed into it again, this time gaining momentum from a few steps back. This time, the entire house shuddered.

But the door did not yield.

A tap on his shoulder had him spinning around, bellowing angrily. Petunia held out a jingling set of keys. Her face was tired, but her eyes were sharp. He nodded thankfully at her, and turned back to the room, slowly sliding the key in.

With a soft _click, _the brave door finally slid open, creaking slightly. Vernon cautiously turned on the lights, barely peeking into the dimly-lit room.

The quietness only served to anger and frighten him, yet he drew himself up, unwilling to be frightened by a scrawny good-for-nothing layabout like his nephew. He stalked towards the bed, scowling and muttering angrily under his breath.

With a rather excited flourish, he ripped the covers off the bed, expecting a (deliberately) skinny, messy-haired, hand-me-down clad body.

Instead, he found himself with a wonderful view of a thin, rather lumpy mattress. He gasped, stumbling backward.

"Petunia," he rasped, "the boy's gone! The freak's left! There's even a note!"

-o0o-

Petunia was a complicated woman. She was obsessively clean, obsessively observant, and obsessively unable to forget.

She had known that her treatment of her own blood nephew was truly odious, and dreaded to think of what the neighbors would say when they knew the truth.

But in truth, it was the own boy's fault. He didn't look anything like his mother. Except for the eyes, her eyes.

Eyes that she had envied almost her entire life, wishing that she could trade her dull, beady brown eyes for those gems. She had known the moment she had looked at her nephew that she could never love him. She could never care for him the way she knew Lily would have cared for Dudley, never loved Harry the way Lily would love Dudley.

And that had repulsed her. Her own hate and jealousy and petty spite had disgusted her to no end. But her self-hate had not stopped her from locking the boy in a cupboard, from taking away his meals, for trying to punish him for being a part of her perfect sister.

So when she heard Vernon shrieking that the boy had left, she only felt relief. Relief that she could stop swimming in guilt, drowning in hatred for what he and his kind stood for, for what they had done to her family. She was relieved that he had left, for both of their sakes.

Well, that is, until she saw the note. What nerve he had, telling his guardians to rot in hell after all they had done for him! She echoed Vernon's outraged shouting, agreeing vehemently when he raged against the boy for being so insolent and self-centered.

Wherever he was, Petunia Dursley hoped that Harry Potter was run over by a bus.

-o0o-

Dedalus Diggle smiled and breathed in the fresh, muggle air at Privet Drive. He was here to guard the Savior of the Wizarding World, the Chosen Boy, Dedalus's own hero. He waved excitedly at Emmeline Vance, his partner for the night, and turned to inspect a muggle tricycle.

_What odd contraptions these muggles use, _Dedalus shook his head amusedly. He settled for discretely (or as discretely as Dedalus could hope to be) circling the house. He regularly hid behind the rosebushes, casting charms to ensure that he didn't get pricked by the fat thorns that protected the flowers.

Dedalus settled behind the rosebushes, knowing this would be a quiet night, just like the others.

Of course, Dedalus Diggle wasn't known for his intelligence.

An indignant bellow from the houes had jerked him awake, causing him to fall out of the rosebush and receive a mouthful of Petunia Dursley's special fertilizer (made from the manure of three cows, two of which weren't allowed into the continent of Europe). He quickly cast a scourgify on his mouth, gagging loudly at the soap bubbles invading his throat.

He marched right through the back door, feeling distinctly disgruntled and alarmed. A rhinoceros had made it's way into Harry Potter's bedroom! A rhinoceros was bellowing at the Magical world's Savior!

He turned and padded up the stairs quietly, motioning for Emmeline to follow behind him. She shadowed him silently, wand clenched in her hand. He threw the door to the first bedroom open, and found it empty. It seemed to be the Master bedroom. Diggle found himself wondering why the Chosen One wasn't given the Master Bedroom.

A trek to the next bedroom had revealed a loudly snoring human-whale mutant with a mop of blond hair. Diggle quickly shut the door, not wanting to hear more of the incessant pounding. That just left…

This time, Emmeline took charge. She quietly turned the doorknob and snuck in silently. Diggle followed behind her obediently, wondering what horrors would lay behind the door.

Of all the things he had expected, a half naked man-rhino and an ostrich-woman glaring angrily at a lumpy mattress and a tiny scrap of parchment was not what he was expecting.

-o0o-

That very night, a small teenager jerked awake from his sleep, covered in a fresh layer of cold sweat.

Harry barely had the energy to scarf down some food and fish a pair of pajamas from his now-normal-sized trunk, let alone unpack and settle in properly. He had spent the time before dinner talking to the house-elves, trying to get to know them better. Tippy and Hermes were full of interesting information about his paternal grandparents, his father and his friends, his mother, and even him as a baby.

For Harry, who never had the luxury of being told baby stories of himself, this was worth the house's worth in gold.

Harry had also insisted on adding a few rules. First, Tippy and Hermes would be required to call him Harry. However, the elves insisted on calling him Master in public, arguing that it was not proper behavior to call one's master so informally in front of other people.

He had also given himself the authority to dole out and choose the punishments, if they ever deserved any. He would pay them too, exactly two sickles every three months- he had originally offered 2 galleons a month, along with a week off, but the poor elves had been so distressed that he had changed his mind. Plus, Tippy and Hermes both liked silver over gold. Harry decided to assign them their duties later, considering he had been too tired to even think at the time. He had simply collapsed into the floating heaven that was his bed, closed his eyes, and began to dream.

He faintly heard a crack behind him, and had only looked around when Tippy squeaked reassuringly to her master. She disappeared and then reappeared again, this time holding a small little green-tinted bottle. She held it out hesitantly to Harry, careful not to come too close to Harry's shivering form.

"M- Harry, Tippy is giving Harry a dreamless sleep," she said softly. Harry reached for the bottle, but Tippy held it out of his reach.

"Tippy. The bottle, please." The little elf trembled, but stood her ground.

"Tippy would like to make a suggestion to Harry, if he please." Harry nodded tiredly, politely gesturing for her to go on. He knew how much courage it took for a house-elf to disobey a master's orders. The elf began rocking back and forth slightly, trying to speak.

"Tippy! I want you to tell me what you'd like to say, please." Harry commanded desperately. He was rather tired and eager to take the potion; it had been a rather tiring few days and he had finally gotten a chance to sleep uninterrupted. The poor elf sighed in relief, and immediately began to speak.

"Tippy would- would like Master Harry to please go see a healing wizard before he begins his training to defeat the Dark wizard. Tippy believes Master Harry would benefit greatly from this trip. Tippy- Tippy insists?" She finished timidly. Tippy looked terrified, but didn't seem to want to back down.

Harry leaned back against the pillows, thoughtful. His initial reaction had been to protest, but Tippy's suggestion didn't actually seem like that bad of an idea.

"Alright," he said slowly, "I'll go before I start my training. Thanks for the suggestion Tippy." The elf beamed, and quickly uncorked the bottle and handed the potion to Harry. He swallowed it hungrily, eager for a night of interrupted sleep.

Maybe the healer could even help him with his training.

-o0o-

Albus Dumbledore tiredly flicked his wand, effectively locking the door behind his last appointment for the day.

He liked Minerva, he did, but the woman would go on about the silliest things, like extra protection for the school or increased funding for the charms and potions club. What nonsense! Because of the new school year, Albus was bogged down with mountains of paperwork. However, being the skilfull politician he was, he had skilfully managed to pass off his work to his beloved Deputy Headmistress. She had initially been reluctant, but had finally caved when he appealed to her need for perfect organization.

He let himself chuckle, knowing this was a hard-earned victory. Sighing, he popped open a small, purple colored tin box. They were his favorite lemon drops, and he found himself visibly relaxing as his personal mind-sharpening drought (infused to the lemon drop) took effect. However, that wasn't enough this time. He turned back to the surface of his desk and picked one brightly colored candy off the tray, greedily sucking on the treat.

Dumbledore had three types of lemon drops: the 'personal' lemon drops (infused with a mind-sharpening drought), the 'general' lemon drops (infused with a calming drought; generally used on normal students who came to his office for a chat), and the 'special' lemon drops (infused with a complacency potion; used on the _special _visitors). He made a quick reminder to ask Severus to brew more calming droughts. He seemed to be running a little too low.

Satisfied, Albus sat back and began to retreat into his mind place. He began with his most pressing thoughts: a certain escaped convict and his extremely troublesome will.

Sirius had left Harry money, power, and yet another Lordship. The boy already had enough responsibility and power, and it was completely useless to give him even more.

No, for his own good, he wouldn't be told about the money until later. Maybe he could mention it to him around the time Harry was creating a will. A little suggestion about donating the 'tainted' money to a good cause in order to redeem the Black name would help the Order's cause greatly.

Now to Harry himself. According to Ron and Ginny's recent reports, the boy had been rather moody and unresponsive. Harry hadn't been writing much to either of them, and they didn't seem to be writing him either. He suspected that Harry's behavior would be rather unbecoming for a few months, but he would probably snap out of it as soon as he was back with the Order (aka his support system). In the meantime, Albus had guards posted around the Dursley household.

Albus also decided to begin the love potions on Harry now. He had finally decided to key the love potions to Ginny Weasley. The girl hadn't known about the plan yet, but he decided that the attention would be most welcomed.

As for Granger, he was still wondering what to do. The pesky girl, while being intelligent enough to help Harry with almost any situation, was a pain in his arse. He had only allowed their friendship because of her initial almost-religious respect for authority. However, Hermione Granger continually demonstrated her willingness to break the rules if they ever jeopardized Harry's health or well-being. Maybe a romantic interest would effectively distract her from watching Harry too closely… Well, Ron Weasley had always been an underachiever. Remarkably, he was able to exude such a contagious aura that others became lazier around him as well. Yes, he would do well to dull Ms. Granger's keen senses.

As for Harry himself, Dumbledore would once again arrange for Occlumency lessons. The lessons weakened Harry's mind considerably, eroding away his natural defenses. The widened link between Harry and Voldemort would then plague Harry with visions of Voldemort's plans, which in turn gave the Order vital information. Albus knew the visions were extremely painful, but he was sure even Harry would agree to it if he knew what was at stake.

He filed a reminder to review the wards at the Burrow. Grimmauld Place had been locked out to the Order after Sirius's death, and the Burrow was now the place they would bring Harry after a while. He just needed to keep Harry at the Dursleys' for a little while longer to give him time to adjust his attitude. Honestly. They were at _war. _He should have expected to have some grievous casualties. Harry was the _Chosen One. _He couldn't be expected to go into a depression every time someone close to him fell.

However, a small part of Dumbledore was relieved that Harry still felt grief, still felt remorse. He knew what lacking the ability to grieve or regret did to a person. Tom had taught him that.

However, before Dumbledore was able to retire for the night, a small caramel-colored owl flew in. He recognized it as Emmeline Vance's. He stifled yet another sigh when he felt the calming potion and mind-sharpening drought wear off.

This could not be good news. Emmeline Vance was one of the two guards set to watch over the Dursleys household tonight. They would only have disturbed him if the news had been important.

He sincerely hoped it meant Harry wasn't dead. It was probably too late to begin training Neville Longbottom anyway.

As he unfurled the letter, he reached for 4 more general lemon drops, knowing these would not be the last of those he would be taking tonight.

Apparently, Harry had escaped his home. Albus calmly walked over to a small table, picked up a spindly silver instrument, and hurled it out the window.

Why couldn't the boy cooperate? Couldn't he see that everything- everything Dumbledore had done was for his and the Wizarding World's own good?!

_How? _How had the boy escaped? Where had he even gone? With a sigh, Dumbledore sent out an alert for an emergency meeting in one or two days time. As he buried himself in the work, he wondered whether Harry had found out about his Inheritance. The very thought of the boy coming into his power made Albus break out in a cold sweat. He decided to check with Gringotts in the morning.

Right now, Albus had a date with his diricrawl-feathered pillow, and he had no intention of cutting it short for a curt goblin.

-o0o-

Shortspear was not having a good day. First, he had lost Gringotts a decent deal with an up-and-coming family. The family's patriarch had insulted the Goblin ruler, and he had immediately responded by throwing them out of Gringotts. He was met with backhanded approval by the Director, who warned him that he would be submitted for review. Additionally, 4 of his clients had either scheduled, rescheduled, or cancelled their financial meetings with him today, throwing his schedule out the window. Finally, he had been coerced into taking over his friend's shift for him, and was now working as a lowly consultant.

And when Albus Dumbledore swept in, requesting information about the Black and Potter houses, he nearly lost it.

"I don't believe you have the authority to know that, Mr. Dumbledore," Shortspear growled. He had reached his rope's end hours ago; Dumbledore was currently stomping on the thinnest layer of ice possible. The old man simply smiled, bright blue eyes sparkling.

"I happen to be the Magical Guardian of the heir to these two houses," he replied smoothly. Shortspear sighed. Of course. Yet another person he was unable to take his anger out on. Insulting this man might risk one of the wealthiest people in the bank: the Potters.

"Of course, Mr. Dumbledore. Shearclaw will lead the way to the Account managers. Good day."

-o0o-

Dumbledore easily kept up with the smaller goblin that was hurrying along to the Potter-Black account manager's office. He was still smarting from his curt treatment at the front desk. Surely the goblins knew that he alone had the power to begin a war between the wizards and goblins. This time, only one race would survive, and it wouldn't be the ones without wands-

_No, _Dumbledore forced himself to keep his inner turmoil away from his face, _you must be tolerance of other magical and non-magical races. After all, you are the Leader of the Light. It is not proper to be so vengeful over such a simple slight. _

By the time the awkward twosome had reached the Account Manager's office, Dumbledore had schooled his expression back into one of a kind, yet powerful member of the Wizarding Government.

"Ah, hello Director Gornuk!" He greeted cheerfully, seating himself without being asked. The imposing goblin nodded curtly.

"Mr. Dumbledore. Now, I have been informed that you wish to talk of your Magical charge's Inheritance?" Dumbledore nodded politely.

"Yes, and I'd like to once again request access to the Potter family vaults. After all, I am the boy's magical guardian, and I believe I reserve the right to take care of his belongings as well." Gornuk nodded, and then a slow, rather nasty smile spread across his face.

"Unfortunately, Dumbledore, you have been denied access to all Potter-Black Vaults by the Heir himself. The Heir of the Lordship of Potter and Black has also been magically emancipated, so you are not recognized as Harry Potter's magical guardian anymore. Thank you for your business." And with that, the goblin turned away. Albus felt a wave of anger wash over him, and didn't even attempt to suppress it.

"Beg your pardon," he began, "but when exactly did he claim Lordship and where exactly is he?" Gornuk didn't even look up from his parchment.

"Beg _your _pardon," he replied dismissively, "but privacy is one of our main values. Lord Potter-Black's location and activities are his business only, and seeing as you have no authority over him besides his Headmaster- well, for now- I see no reason to concede to your demand. Additionally," he warned, seeming to sense Albus's drawing his wand, "drawing a wand inside Gringotts is expressly forbidden in the Wizard-Goblin Treaty of 1734. Unless you wish to start another war between our two races, I highly recommend exiting our premises quickly and peacefully. Good day to you."

Albus's mouth fell open in angry disbelief. Never, in all his 150 years, had he been dismissed so casually. And for a goblin to do it! He stewed for a few seconds more, and then finally stood up angrily.

"I believe you will severely regret your actions in the future, Goblin Gornuk." Albus cautioned, his voice trembling with anger. He gathered his robes and swirled out of the room.

He had better things to do than be rejected by a lesser race.

Right now, he had a letter to write.

-o0o-

Albus finished penning his letter, and signed it with a flourish that would have turned Gilderoy Lockhart green with envy. He read over it once more, just to make sure it conveyed the proper message.

_Harry, _

_I'm afraid to say that I'm very disappointed by your actions. I had rather hoped you would be mature enough to be able to handle living with your relatives for a few weeks. I have already explained to you why you must stay there. Your actions have been very selfish; you have placed your only family at risk. I must insist that you return to Privet Drive Harry, if only for a few more weeks. It is, after all, for your and your relatives' safety._

_However, I am not an unfair man. If you do as I ask, I will arrange for your stay at the Burrow for most of your summer. Rest assured, you will be able to enjoy the rest of your summer in peace. _

_Additionally, I believe it's time I begin training you for your fight against Lord Voldemort. I will begin giving you private lessons when you return for your fall term._

_I implore you to do as I say. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be responsible for the death of your remaining family._

_Hope you are well,_

_-AD_

Albus nodded, satisfied. He had included a fine incentive for the boy, a carefree summer with his best friend and supposed _training _sessions during school. The letter was perfect. He tapped the parchment with his wand, murmuring a few words. The tracking charm he had just applied was very powerful; it would easily pass through anything short of a Fidelius. He called for Fawkes to deliver it, but the damn phoenix had disappeared yet again. He sighed and summoned an owl from the Owlery.

_Guess I will just have to have my mail delivered like all the other students, _Albus decided, shaking his head in mild disgust at the plain screech owl sitting in front of him patiently. He flicked his wand quickly, and the letter was skilfully attached to the owl's leg. After applying a timed notice-me-not, destined to wear off in a few days (the estimated time for delivery), Albus sent the creature on it's way.

Almost immediately afterwards, he grabbed a bottle of Ogden's finest and headed to his private quarters.

_Diricrawl feathers, here I come. _

-o0o-

**Chapter 7, what a monster. I know it focused heavily on Dumbledore, but his POV is currently very important to the story. I hope you enjoyed the different character POV; it certainly was interesting to write so many different people. Thanks for reading!**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for all of the reviews, follows and favorites. I appreciate every single e-mail I receive and the mailbox's **_**ping **_**is music to my ears.**

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-o0o-

Harry had a dilemma.

On one hand, the healers in America were required by magical law to refrain from releasing their charges' identity or medical conditions to the press or the government. The facilities were brilliant, and fully equipped to deal with anything. But there were simply so _many _of them- it was practically impossible to choose. It was also extremely far, making the methods of travel he was comfortable with (flying on a broom) impossible.8'

On the other hand, France seemed to be equipped to deal with most problems. However, their close relation to Britain might result in him being handed over to the government as some sort of War Prisoner. France, while wonderful, simply didn't meet all of his needs for America.

But France was closer…

He sighed, realizing that he'd never be able to make a decision. He mentally steeled himself and softly called for Hermes. While Tippy was outwardly more friendly, Hermes was a rather deep thinker and genuinely seemed to try to help Harry. He was pretty smart, compared to the other house elves he had seen. With a _crack, _the quieter house elf appeared and bowed.

"Yes, Mas- Harry?" Harry shook his head; the house-elves had spent all of five minutes trying to refer to him as Harry, and then had reverted back to their usual titles. He had long since given up trying to remind them because when he did, they received it as chastisement and asked for permission to punish themselves.

"Well, Hermes, I have a dilemma." Hermes nodded solemnly, tennis-ball eyes glistening. He came closer hesitantly.

"And Master Harry desires Hermes's humble opinion?" He croaked hesitantly. Harry nodded, and beseechingly gestured to the pile of pamphlets that Tippy had thrust upon him.

"I don't even know where to begin," he replied desperately, "should I travel to France or to America?" Hermes carefully flicked through the pamphlets and finally hovered over one. He held the small leaflet out to Harry.

"Master Harry, great-grandmaster had helped build this hospital. Great grandmaster send grandmaster there, and grandmaster was very happy with the service, very happy indeed." Harry peered at the leaflet.

_Medens Magical Hospital, _the title read in a professional, yet readable script. Harry flicked through the pages, and found himself liking what they offered. They were specialized in all types of medical magic, and had a bunch of recent renovations to keep their medical appliances as up-to-date as possible.

Harry turned back to Hermes, and smiled. He held up the flier.

"Hermes, can you bring me some parchment and a pen? I've got a letter to write."

-o0o-

Harry checked his trunk to make sure everything was in order. He was grateful that he hadn't already begun to unpack his clothes.

The letter had instructed him to pack for a few days' worth stay, considering his well-known magical exploits. It also told him the letter would portkey him to the hospital, and he just had to say the password. However, the letter didn't bypass any anti-portkey wards, so he needed to find an unprotected area. He had decided to walk about half a mile away, which would safely put him out of the anti-portkey wards' range.

Harry gripped the letter and the muttered "Medens". With a whirl, Harry Potter left Europe.

-o0o-

Albus smiled at the motley members of the Order of the Phoenix, trying to hide his fear and anger.

"Thank you all for coming. And thank you Molly for generously allowing us to use your home as a place for Order meetings, since Grimmauld Place is no longer accessible to us. However, the reason I have called this meeting is, unfortunately, not good. It seems," he closed his eyes, playing up the picture of worry and sorrow, "that young Harry Potter has gone missing."

_Silence. _Albus opened his eyes again, waiting for the total uproar. However, he found the Order staring at him, with open mouths and wide eyes. Remus was the first one who came to. However, he didn't look horrified. He looked _furious. _

"How could you, Headmaster? You promised that Harry was safe, that he couldn't be taken!"

"Remus, I assure you my protection was sufficient from preventing an outside force access to Harry! However, no protection short of turning the boy's home into a prison would prevent him from leaving." Albus paused, watching the information dawn onto Remus with a perverse sense of satisfaction. Remus Lupin, a mere werewolf, doubted Albus Dumbledore's ability to protect a single child?  
Granted, his track record with Harry wasn't very good, but to doubt and blame him for Harry's disappearance?!

"So he-he just… left?" Remus croaked, amber eyes wide with terror. Albus nodded, trying to reign in his temper.

"Yes, Remus, he left. But I don't know why he hadn't returned. Perhaps he was captured. However, once he was outside the wards, there was nothing to stop anyone from kidnapping him or him travelling further away." Tonks reached over and set her hand on Remus's shoulder, looking sympathetic and concerned.

"I'm sure that if we all work together and pool our resources, we will be able to retrieve Harry safely," he replied, searching everyone's faces. Maybe one of the Order members knew something? However, most people just looked resolute and determined, with the exception of Snape. He just looked bored and irritated, as usual.

"Remus, maybe you could contact your Underground brothers? I heard news travels rather quickly down there… Maybe they would yield some information if you poked around?" Remus nodded, his jaw set and eyes blazing.

"Anything for Harry," he murmured, before leaving to make preparations. Dumbledore nodded, and turned to Snape.

"Severus, I'd like you to check with your _less savory _contacts about the boy's location. Don't let anyone know he's missing, but make sure that they aren't harboring him anyway." Snape gave a short nod, but then sneered.

"I hardly think we need to go looking for our Boy Wonder. I'm sure he was just put out because of the lack of attention directed towards him, and decided he would make a statement by-" However, Severus never completed his statement because of a certain Minerva McGonagall.

"Don't be silly, Severus. Potter is a very modest student. He has never asked for any attention, and he definitely did not ask for yours." She said sharply, glaring at the pale potions master. Snape raised a greasy eyebrow. Due to the added stress of being a double-double agent, his greasy tendencies had spilled over to the other hair-inhabited areas of his body. However, due to a spontaneous burst of self-control, he did not reply.

"Alright, onto our next measures. Tonks, Kingsley, Arthur, and everyone else with a ministry job, I'd like you to keep your eyes and ears open for any news related to Harry. And as for the rest of you," he gestured to the people he hadn't mentioned by name, "I'd like you all to keep an eye out wherever you go. I also believe that it'd be a good idea to hang around the Leaky Cauldron, just in case Harry is in the Magical world. And I think we shall continue surveillance of the Dursleys, just in case he returns. Thank you all for your time and assistance." And with that, the meeting was adjourned.

-o0o-

After the meeting, Molly set about making dinner for her family and Dumbledore, who she insisted stay for some dinner. Dumbledore had grudgingly agreed; he just wanted to go home for another rendezvous with his private quarters, but the overbearing baby factory had forced him to stay and discuss the planned future for her children and Harry. He had called for Molly and Ron privately, just before he had left.

"Thank you, Molly. The food was very wonderful, and the dinner was heartening to one as old as I. But before I go, I have one last set of instructions: I need you to prepare a bedroom for Harry. I suspect we will be seeing him soon, and I think returning him to Privet Drive would give him a chance to escape yet again. You may take some money from his trust vault to prepare your home and family for Harry's stay. Now, if I may speak to Ronald privately?" Molly nodded and scurried away, satisfied with the promise of a little extra money.

Dumbledore turned to Ron, who was trying- and failing- to discretely finish off a chocolate eclair without being noticed.

"Now Ronald, I hope you have begun your usual correspondence with Harry. I would appreciate it if you wrote a letter asking him where he was along with an offer to stay at the Burrow. Send me the letter first, please." Ron nodded, looking a little bored. He inched his hand towards his mouth with the eclair.

"Sure, Headmaster. Whatever you'd like me to do." Dumbledore nodded, satisfied.

"Well, that is all. Good night Ronald, and thank you for your cooperation."

-o0o-

"Welcome to the Philadelphia branch of Medens Hospital of Magic. I'm Healer Raj, and I will be assessing you today, Mr. Potter." A tall, friendly Indian man smiled and stuck out his hand and smiled, exposing straight white teeth. Harry smiled back nervously and shook Healer Raj's hand firmly.

"Well, I believe you requested a full physical treatment, so I will begin with a basic diagnostic charm." However, as Healer Raj began reading the results of his simple diagnostic scan, the smile was quickly replaced by a fearsome scowl.

"Mr. Potter, I'd like you to explain to me what suicide missions you have undertaken in order to have received a report like this."

Harry jerked back slightly, surprised by the venom in the kind healer's tone. He didn't really know where to start; at one point, his life had just been defined by his scars.

"Well, I guess I should start from the beginning… As you probably know, Voldemort attacked my parents when I was a baby, and gave me this scar," Harry began, lifting his bangs. The healer stopped him, held a silver scanner (attached to some paper) and asked him to wait thirty seconds. The paper began filling up with words, and Healer Raj held up a hand to interrupt the story.

"If you have a scar from your-" he grimaced, "_adventures, _I'd like you to show me." Harry nodded, and continued on.

"For ten years after that, I was the lone victim of my cousin's favorite game, Harry Hunting. And that- well, that left scars all over my body. Dudley's merry band wasn't exactly pulling their punches anywhere, you know?" Harry just waved a hand around his entire body.

"No dark magic there, right?" Healer Raj asked slowly, looking slightly apprehensive at the answer. Harry shook his head, promising him that Dudley was as muggle as they come.

"And then in first year, I had a fight with a troll, and I think I ended up sticking my wand up it's nose. No real injuries there, besides a few bruises from being swung around. And, erm, well, I was almost thrown off a cursed broomstick, and had helped sneak a dragon out of school- oh hell, I wasn't supposed to tell you that. You won't tell, will you?" Harry pleaded with the dark-skinned healer. Raj smiled, and simply shook his head.

"Anything you say in this room will not be held against you, unless it's murder. If that happened, I don't think this arrangement will work out," he reminded, chuckling. Harry nodded, relieved. Despite Hagrid's blind loyalty to Dumbledore, he really liked the half-giant, and would never forgive himself if he had gotten him in trouble with the law.

"Right. Then in that year, I also came into contact with a- a Cerberus, I think, and Devil's Snare. I flew into the air, got a silver key, and then unlocked a door. I then had to play my way across a chessboard in a life-size chess match. I drank a potion that let me walk through flames- not normal flames, they were colored. Um, and then I- er, well, I sort of faced my DADA teacher/Voldemort. And I didn't get any scars, but Quirrell/Voldemort, well… He didn't survive the encounter. I spent some time in the Hospital Wing again. And I think that's pretty much it for my 'adventures'." Healer Raj nodded.

"I assume you underwent counseling for your experiences?" Harry was surprised, then a bit shocked. He _hadn't _undergone counselling. Instead, he had gotten a pat on the back and a few house points.

"Er, no- I didn't get any counselling. But I did get sent back to my muggle relatives, the Dursleys." Healer Raj carefully kept his face blank, and instead watched as the scanner recorded a few more notes.

"That summer, they did the usual, they made me do all the chores and gave me barely enough food to survive. And then a house-elf came and warned me not to return to Hogwarts and then did magic- I received an official warning for that, of course. My relatives had put bars on my windows in order to keep me inside, and they limited my food even more than before. I ended up being broken out by my fr- some other fellow wizards." Healer Raj nodded, holding up a hand to let a different parchment and quill record his words.

"Then at my school, I had to fly in a car all the way from London to Scotland, and was attacked by an angry magic tree. We weren't allowed to go to the feast; instead, we had dinner away from the rest of the school."

"Were you checked for injuries?" Healer Raj interrupted, looking anxious. Harry shook his head, confirming the negative.

"No, but I was okay. Just a few scratches. And then there was the petrifications, what with the basilisk living under the school. I got into an encounter with a rogue bludger, which had cost me all the bones in my right arm. They were regrown using skelegrow by Madam Pomfrey. Also, I had been attacked by Acromantulas living near the school, but was relatively unscathed. I think the major 'adventure' was when I faced the Basilisk. It bit me, and I almost died. However, a phoenix saved me by crying onto the wound in my arm. The girl that was being possessed by Voldemort's diary woke up after I stabbed the very diary with a basilisk fang- Healer Raj?" Healer Raj had almost fallen out of his chair, looking shocked and terrified.

"Des- Describe the diary," he ordered tersely, looking faint. Harry was taken aback. While the diary's destruction had woken up Ginny, he hadn't realized that it had a larger importance.

"Er- it would write back to you, almost like it had a mind of it's own. It could also show people memories, and it belonged to Voldemort. When I stabbed it, it screamed and the 16-year old 'ghost' of Tom Riddle disappeared. And Ginny, who was possessed by the diary- and apparently poured her _soul _into it, woke up." Healer Raj's eyes widened, and he made a note on his paper again.

"What is it? Do you know what the diary is, Healer Raj?" Harry asked nervously, shifting around.

"I believe-" Healer Raj hesitated, "I believe I have an idea… But it's dark magic Harry, very dark magic. I'd have to speak to a specialist in Dark curses and enchantments- how about I get back to you on that?" Harry nodded, feeling slightly sick. If a fully qualified healer had to consult with a Dark Curses specialist… Well, the subject would have been extremely dangerous…

'Right… Afterwards, nothing very medically important happened… The students woke up…"

"Did the parents get a notice or compensation?" Healer Raj asked, leaning forward slightly. Harry frowned… _Come to think of it, I'm not even sure Hermione's parents knew. They didn't even visit, and I'm pretty sure they loved her fiercely. _

"I don't think that the parents were informed- not the muggleborn ones at least," Harry responded slowly. The Healer's eyes widened in disbelief, but he refrained from saying anything.

"3rd year, I blew up my 'aunt' and left my muggle relatives' home. I took the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron, and was told by the Minister personally that I wasn't in trouble and that I should be careful this year. Apparently, a dangerous mass-murder, Sirius Black, had broken out of prison and was looking for me. However, nobody thought to tell me before. The first time I had heard about Sirius Black personally hunting me, it was actually overheard information. I ended up spending the rest of my summer in Leaky Cauldron. It was the best summer of my life." Harry paused for a breath, and Healer Raj thoughtfully conjured up a glass of water. Harry took it gratefully, letting the cool liquid soothe his ragged throat.

"On the train to Hogwarts, I, along with my friends, met a dementor that had come onto the train. I had fainted, and probably would have been kissed if I hadn't been sitting in the same compartment as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"We arrived at Hogwarts, and the grounds were playing host to the Dementors. We were told not to approach them, which everyone gladly followed the advice of.

"During that year, we studied a hippogriff, a boggart, and other normal things. But during a Quidditch match, a dementor snuck up on me and I fell almost a hundred feet. My broom had been severely damaged by the Whomping Willow, and I was in the Hospital Wing again," Harry continued, grimacing at the onslaught of memories.

Harry talked and talked and talked, telling Healer Raj the full story of his adventures at Hogwarts.

When he had finished, he had drank almost 4 glasses of water, and left the healer completely speechless. The man shook his head slowly, looking entirely disbelieving.

"One person can't go through that in only 15 years. I don't mean to be rude, but how are you still alive with every limb intact? How has your mind not snapped?" Harry shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed.

"To be honest, sir," Harry replied truthfully, "I'm not quite sure I am sane."

-o0o-

Healer Raj scanned the file again, unwilling to believe what had been written on the papers. The report had been one of the longest medical papers he had ever seen, nevertheless for one as young as fifteen. He shook his head. The damage to the poor adolescent was staggering. . He had kept Mr. Potter overnight, at a loss of where to begin with the treatment. He began to make a list of what he would need.

_I better call Raini, _he thought grimly, _I'm not coming home tonight. _

-o0o-

Harry was awakened by a polite cough and a loud, "Mr. Potter". He rolled over blearily, instinctively clutching for his wand. He felt a jolt of reassurance when he touched the smooth wood, and began remembering his surroundings.

"Mr. Potter, Healer Raj will be here in 10 minutes to discuss your medical records. I will be sending breakfast along in 5 minutes time. I'm here to show you to a restroom for you to freshen up." A middle-aged, no-nonsense nurse stepped through the doorway of his room, looking impatient.

Harry nodded and grabbed his trunk, thanking his lucky stars he had decided not to sleep in just his silk boxers.

7 minutes later, a freshly showered and dressed Harry Potter emerged from the restroom, trying half-heartedly to flatten his hair.

He devoured the hot breakfast, feeling fuller than usual despite the relatively light meal. A knock on the door signalled Healer Raj's arrival, and Harry smiled at the tired, but friendly looking man in front of him. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Healer Raj got right to business.

"Well, Harry, I'm not going to lie; your medical records are horrifying. According to my spells, you have exhibited signs of malnutrition, stunted growth, signs of abuse, and badly healed bones. There are also quite a few dark curses on you, such as the one on the palm of your hand," Healer Raj said somberly, and Harry felt a familiar fury directed toward Umbridge, "your scar also seems to be of very dark magic. I have also checked for magical blocks, and I have found _two_. Honestly, it's a wonder that you have been _passing_ your classes at Hogwarts. There is a magical trail; however, it is very subtle and the trail is complicated. But don't worry; I brought in some people to untangle the trail, and we can understand who cast it on you. While most parents cast blocks on particularly powerful magical children, they are usually removed after the parent's death or when the parents themselves remove it." Harry nodded heavily, already having a suspicion of who cast such a charm on him.

"Don't worry, we will be able to fix some, if not most of the damage. Starting today, you will be taking three types of nutrient potions with every meal. I'm afraid I will have to keep you for another night or two in order to properly re-heal your bones and I will see what I can do about your dark scars. I have been doing some research, and I have called in a friend to consult about the scars you have. He should be here in a while. Also, these nutrient potions can only take you so far- a healthy diet and regular exercise will bring you to your proper health. Ah," he stopped, and flicked his wand towards the door, "Harry, this is Curse Specialist Rylan Shovers and the Charms specialists, Ian Quinn." A pretty young woman smiled at him while the tall, sandy-haired man nodded politely. The man moved forward, and stuck out his hand formally.

"Hey Harry, I'm Ian Quinn, and I'll be checking you for any charms today." Harry nodded back, slightly nervous at what the wizarding specialist would find?

_Oh screw it, _Harry decided suddenly, _how bad could it be? _

As it turns out, it was very bad. Ian Quinn had angrily informed him that there was a myriad of tracking charms and blocks on him, along with a Repulsion charm that radiated negative emotions from him to other people in his vicinity. Harry growled when he realized that the charm must have been the reason no one had really approached or supported him during his school days.

"All of this are leading back to the same trace- but without a suspect or a trace of a person's magic to match it with, I can't identify this person," admitted Quinn. He looked extremely frustrated, and Rylan laid a calming hand on his shoulder. However, Healer Raj appeared to be deep in thought. He abruptly turned to Harry, face hopeful.

"You said your Headmaster and your 'friends' had given you items, right?" Healer Raj asked, eyebrows raised. Harry nodded slowly, not really seeing where this was going.

"According to what you have told me, it is likely he has placed most of these charms on you. Is there something he has given you personally that probably holds his magical signature?" Harry thought-

"My Invisibility Cloak!" He nearly shouted. Quinn, Shovers, and Raj all jerked back, mouths opened impossibly wide.

"You- you have a genuine invisibility cloak?" Quinn stuttered. Harry nodded sheepishly, apologizing for shouting.

"It was my father's. He left it in Dumbledore's care before he died, and Dumbledore gave me the cloak my first Christmas at Hogwarts. I have it with me, right in here," he added, rummaging through his regular sized trunk. He pulled it out, and handed it to Quinn. He took it, staring reverentially at the cloak.  
"This- this is the finest Invisibility Cloak I have ever seen," Quinn murmured, running his hands through the folds carefully. He cast a basic detecting charm, but the cloak came up mostly clean. However, there were a few faint traces of foreign magic, and Quinn smiled ferally. He waved his wand in a complicated motion, and the traces of magic became much clearer. At Harry's questioning gaze, he quickly explained.

"It's a detection charm of my own design. Unless the charms were woven into the cloak, my spell would pick up on it. And these spells were definitely _not _a part of the Cloak.

"There are numerous tracking charms laid upon the cloak too, and the magical signature matches the one laid upon you," Quinn stated, looking grim.

"Dumbledore…" Harry growled quietly. The man certainly had a lot of explaining to do… "Will you be able to remove them?" Harry asked hopefully. Quinn nodded.

"Sure, but it'll take time, depending on the complexity and power behind the spells. But I think I can undo them all within the course of a few days." Harry nodded gratefully.

"Thank you, sir." Ian shook his head, smiling slightly. Healer Raj cleared his throat and gestured for Specialist Shovers to step forward. She smiled, tucking a wavy strand of blond hair behind her ear.

"Hello, Harry," she replied in a soft, but low voice, "I'm Specialist Shover, but just call me Rylan, all right?" Harry nodded politely. She took out her wand, and began scanning his entire body. When she was finished, her brow was furrowed.

"My scans show two particularly dark scars, one on your right hand and the one on your forehead. Care to explain the residual dark magic on your hand, Harry?" Harry flexed his hand, and the faint white outline of _I must not tell lies _came into view. Rylan gasped, blue eyes crackling with anger.

"A blood quill?! Those- those abominations are banned in Britain!" She exclaimed, cheeks tinted with rage, "Who forced you to etch these words into your own skin?" Harry hesitated, slightly afraid to sell anyone out to the angry witch. However, his reluctance immediately disappeared when he recalled how despicable Umbridge had truly been.  
"Her name was Dolores Umbridge, and she was my fifth-year Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. She's also the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister in Britain, I think." At the thought of a teacher and ministry worker using blood quills, Rylan became impossibly _angrier. _

"That woman should be tried for her crime! How did she ever get a teaching license?" Rylan shook her head in despair, but continued on. When she got to his scar, she chanted something complex and twirled her wand skilfully, touching the tip of her wand to his lightning scar at the end. As she was reading the results of her complex scan, she gasped and scuttled away from Harry.  
"He's a horcrux!" She gasped.

-o0o-

Apparently, being a horcrux was a very, very bad thing. Healer Raj was forced to administer a calming draught on a nearly hysterical Rylan.

When she calmed down enough to be able to speak, she explained shakily what a horcrux was.

"So, let me get this straight," Harry said slowly, horror tingeing his voice,"I've got a piece of Voldemort's soul inside me?" At Rylan's somber nod, he slumped in despair.

"Is there a way to remove it?" He asked quietly, refusing to keep his hopes up. Rylan hesitated, then nodded shakily.

"Well- there is a ritual that would allow us to transfer the soul into a different container and then destroy the container-" Harry nodded eagerly, so she pressed on, "it's very risky, especially if the soul begins to fight back. And I can guarantee you Voldemort's soul will."

Harry nodded, feeling absolutely dejected. He had a piece of Voldemort within him… _Neither can live while the other survives… _

"How come I can't access Voldemort if I have a piece of his soul connected to me, then?" Harry asked curiously. Rylan nodded, looking a little relieved.

"Well, the soul piece is rather weak. Such a dark and fragile soul fragment coming into contact with a soul as whole and pure as yours has severely weakened it, and it remains bound. However, you are constantly fighting the soul piece from taking over, and a part of your magic is doing just that, which weakens you but protects you from contact with the soul piece. However, if you tried to access the soul piece, you would get the memories and be able to spy into the other pieces of his soul- however, this would take intense preparation along with an extensive knowledge of Occlumency and Legilimency. You definitely cannot try this on your own, you understand?" Harry nodded sullenly, trying to conceal the hope blooming in his chest.

He finally knew how to defeat Voldemort, and all was not lost. He knew what he was up against.

He had a plan.

"Alright, so would you like us to remove the horcrux for you, Harry?" Rylan asked kindly. He shook his head. Her brow furrowed, but she nodded and politely took her leave, claiming that her job was done, and she would send a salve to fix the damage done by the blood quill. Healer Raj drew up a schedule for the next few nights of Harry's stay at Medens.

"Tonight, we will work on re-healing your bones properly, and begin you on your nutrient regimen. We will also try to break the blocks on your magic the next day. Doing too much in one day might overload your body and cause more damage. Does that sound good to you?" Harry nodded, slightly overwhelmed. He had known he was damaged, but this…

Healer Raj clapped his hands.

"Alright, team. Let's get to work.

-o0o-

Ron sat at the dining table, chewing absentmindedly on some stolen Droobles gum. In his left hand, a battered quill was held loosely, ocassionally letting it tap on the worn wood. He looked at the parchment, and groaned at the smooth, blank surface.

He had been trying to write to Harry for the last 20 minutes, but he kept coming up blank. He was a bit disgruntled at Dumbledore making him the person to reach out to him. Did he know how much work it was to continue correspondence to such a moody, famous teenager?!

He had been rather surprised to hear that Harry had left, considering how much his friend had liked everyone in the Order. He had been rather irritated by his dramatics though. He had eavesdropped with Fred and George during Order meetings held at the Burrow, and apparently, Harry had even left a note: _rot in hell. _

It was ironic, how Harry had insisted he hadn't wanted attention and then he did the most flamboyant things…

He wasn't really worried about Harry, not really. He wasn't stupid enough to do something dangerous. However, Ron was upset that Harry hadn't told him anything. After all, they were best friends. Never mind the fact that he was obligated to tell Dumbledore, and probably would have. He finally threw his hands up in the air. _Bugger it all, _he decided.

_Hey Harry,_

_I know you're upset, mate, but running away won't solve anything. You should talk to me if you want to feel better. Where are you? Come home mate, you can stay at the Burrow instead of living with the muggles. If you want, we'll come and get you. Don't do anything stupid. _

_Ron._

He nodded once, satisfied with his letter. It seemed to address everything Dumbledore had wanted. He whistled for Pigwidgeon, and wrestled the letter onto him.

"Dumbledore, take this letter to Dumbledore, you barmy pig." The tiny owl twittered excitedly and flew off, right before smacking into the door. Ron laughed and shook his head, and then turned to begin another letter. Hermione should definitely know about this…

_Hey Hermione._

_Guess what? Harry's missing. I need you to write him and tell him to come back to the Burrow, so he'll be safe. Where are you? Do you think you could come over for the summer? I need help on my transfiguration essay._

_Bye for now._

_Ron_

-o0o-

Hermione raced over to the window, eager to let in the old owl flying feebly towards her home. She plucked the letter from Errol's leg, and she directed Errol to the owl treats set out specifically for letter bearers like him. She unfurled the letter, and began reading eagerly.

By the time she was done, she was almost hyperventilating. Harry was missing.

Harry was _missing. _She immediately sat down, planning to write a letter imploring him to return to the Burrow.

However, as she thought about it, Harry alone didn't seem to be such a bad idea. He could train, he could get ready for the battle. As long as he was in a safe place, he could probably take better care of himself than the Dursleys ever did. So she began a new letter.

_Harry,_

_I don't want you to tell me where you are. I know that you won't want to return, and I won't ask you to either. I just hope you're safe, Harry. If there's a way, any way that would let you know if you were safe without you risking yourself, please do it.._

_And Harry, I meant what I said about training. If you're able to, I think a little extra theoretical work could help in the long run- especially defensive magic._

_Anyway, I hope you're alright, and I'll see you at Hogwarts (?)._

_Love from,_

_Hermione._

She hurried down the long path to the magical post office and requested an owl to send a message for her.

"Harry Potter," she replied, "and please wait for a response." As the owl flew off, she found herself repeating the same phrase.

_Oh Harry, what have you started?_

-o0o-

**Well, there's another chapter. I know it's rather slow, but these events are very important to the plot. So bear with me, please. :) Also, I'd like to thank everyone who followed, favorited, and especially reviewed. I'm truly honored as to how many people enjoy this story. :) I think I'm still in shock!**

**Please review your thoughts, and the next installment shall be up soon.**


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